No Wolves Allowed
by SWWoman
Summary: The fifth story in the Wolf series. The team deals with anti-Wolf prejudice against one of their own while trying to keep a hateful preacher alive.
1. Prologue

Welcome to the latest installment in the Wolf series. Thanks and hugs got out to my betas, Wolfmusic and ReeseisLAVAhot. Love you both!

Sadly, Bad Robot owns Person of Interest, not me.

* * *

**Prologue**

Jocelyn Carter knelt down and carefully placed the bundle of flowers at the foot of the weeping angel headstone that marked the grave. She remained kneeling, sitting on her lower legs and ankles with her hands folded in her lap, as she stared at the inscription. It simply said _Tibor_, followed by the approximate year of his birth and the year of his death, this year. Underneath that, Joss had insisted they add _Never Forgotten_, because she would never, ever forget him or forgive herself for failing to save him. Finch had not been so sure that inscription was good idea, but Joss had been so insistent that he had given in.

Joss remained staring at the headstone for the longest time. Tibor's birth year was a guess, even Finch's thorough record search was unable to find a birth record of the Little Lost Wolf as Joss had come to call him. He had no last name, his adoptive family had been horribly abusive and Joss insisted they not use that name on his headstone. Finch had agreed with her, so the boy was just Tibor for now. Finch had hired a man in Hungary to find Tibor's family, if any of them were left. Until such time as his family was found, the space for his last name was left blank.

Joss knelt quietly for a while, letting the tears fall and grieving for the child who'd never known love or the company of pack mates. She was so wrapped up in her grief and guilt that she didn't notice the approach of her beloved mate, John Reese, as he walked across the cemetery to her. She didn't even know he was there until a pair of strong arms encircled her from behind and a soft voice whispered in her ear, "It's been months, are you ever going to forgive yourself?"

Joss placed her hands on his arms. "Would you?" she whispered.

John held her tight. "No. But then I would be getting a lecture from this bad-ass detective telling me that it wasn't my fault." John kissed her temple. "It wasn't your fault. They killed him, not you."

"If I just held on little longer, a little tighter…"

"You did everything humanly possible. Don't do this to yourself, please."

"I don't know how to move past this John. A child died." Joss wiped a tear away.

John stood up and pulled Joss up with him. He held her tightly against his chest while she cried. "All we can do is fight the hate that killed him."

And then he held her until she couldn't cry anymore.


	2. Chapter 1 - No Wolves Allowed

**No Wolves Allowed**

Joss Carter wasn't sure what to think when she got the call from her son's school.

"Ms. Carter, a problem has come up that requires your immediate attention," the principal of the school informed her smoothly and, she thought, overly formally. That was a bad sign. "Would you mind meeting with me and your son in my office after school today?"

"May I ask what this is about?" Joss asked, puzzled.

"I would prefer to discuss it in person, Ms. Carter."

Joss checked her watch, if she left the diner where she was having lunch with her partner, Lionel , right now, she would just have time to make it. Fortunately, she was still on maternity leave and had the flexibility to leave as needed. "Alright," she agreed. "I'll be there right after school lets out."

"Thank you for your understanding." And the principal hung up.

Joss frowned as she ended the call. Fusco looked over at her as he finished off the last bite of his burger. "Problem at Taylor's school?" he inquired.

"I guess. They wouldn't tell me anything over the phone. But Principal Hartwell was being very formal, so whatever it is, it's bad."

Fusco nodded his head in agreement as he stole one of her sweet potato fries. "Yep, that's a bad sign alright. Last time I had a school administrator call me using formal language, Lee got suspended for a week."

Joss stood up, gathering her stuff to leave. "That was for fighting that bully, right?"

Fusco grinned with some pride. "Yep, and he won too. Little creep never bothered Lee after that."

Joss smiled and laughed. "At least he won. I gotta go if I'm going to make it. I'll call you later."

"Go ahead; I'll get the tab. Good luck." Fusco pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

"Thanks partner, I'll get the next one." Joss hurried out of the diner

* * *

As Carter entered the principal's office she saw her son slouched in a chair across the desk from Principal Hartwell, but did not see her mate. "Did you call John?" she asked Taylor.

Taylor looked up glumly, "No, they wouldn't let me; they said he's not my dad."

"WHAT? Of course he is!" Joss exclaimed, looking to the principal for clarification.

Principal Hartwell, whose nickname among the students was, somewhat inevitably, Principal Hartless, leaned back in his chair. "Well Ms. Carter, it is our understanding that you are not married to this John fellow…"

"That would be Mr. Ross to you," Carter snapped using the identity Finch had developed for John to use for domestic purposes. "We're a bonded Wolf pair, of course we're married!" Joss snarled.

The principal folded his hands on his desk and tried to look sympathetic, but failed miserably. He actually came across as quite smug. "The state of New York does not recognize Wolf matings as legitimate marriages, so I'm afraid _Mr. Ross_ has no standing here."

Joss stared at the man and his smug face for a minute. How dare he disrespect her relationship with her mate like that? How dare he disrespect John and his relationship to Taylor?

Joss was fighting to maintain her temper. "Mr. Ross and I are in a monogamous, committed relationship. A relationship that is much closer and committed than any so-called 'legal marriage'."

"But it's not a legal marriage so my hands are tied." The smarmy bastard even smiled at her.

Joss put her hands on her hips subtly brushing back her blazer back revealing the gun on her hip. The principal blanched, "Really Ms. Carter! Do you need to carry a gun in here?"

Joss glared at the man. "It's _Detective_ Carter, and yes, as a sworn officer, I have the right to carry my service weapon with me, despite my maternity leave. Since you're all concerned about the laws of the State of New York, I'll be more than happy to quote the section that gives me the right to bring my gun on school grounds at any time."

Hartwell stuttered, "Um, no, that will not be necessary, Detective. Please sit down."

Joss sat down in the chair next to her son and faced the principal across the desk. She focused her hardest glare at the man, the glare that had caused more than one criminal in New York to piddle themselves. The principal looked like he was not immune.

The principal cleared his throat, "It has come to our attention that you and your so-called mate are Wolves."

"So-called? There is no so-called about it. You may not believe we're married, but do _not_ disrespect our relationship," Carter hissed between clenched teeth, her eyes flashing with anger.

Hartwell continued smoothly, "Regardless, you and your um, mate are Wolf and we do not allow Wolves at Marbury High School."

"What? Why?" Joss searched her memory, she had dutifully read the entire student handbook and code of conduct when Taylor had won his scholarship to the school, and she could not recall anything about a ban on Wolves. Admittedly she hadn't yet been turned when Taylor had been admitted, but she was always dedicated to democratic ideals and equal opportunity, so she was positive she would have remembered if there had been any discriminatory language in the documents.

"Well, due to Wolves' violent nature, we feel it is best for the safety of the staff and students if there are no Wolves on campus." The principal leaned back in his chair looking quite pleased with himself. "We don't allow anyone convicted of violent crimes on campus, so why we would we allow Wolves?"

Joss leaned over the desk towards the principal, "Let's get a few things straight. First off, crime statistics clearly show Wolves are no more violent than the average man on the street, so that's a lousy analogy. Second, even if that old wives' tale were true, Taylor is _not_ Wolf. He is not eligible to be turned until he turns eighteen, so you have _nothing_ to worry about."

"I'm sorry, but our rules are quite specific," the principal said and he moved his chair slightly back from the furious she Wolf. "We only have a couple of weeks until the end of the school year, Taylor may finish the semester here, but you will have to make other arrangements for him next year. The matter is closed."

Joss felt like the air was sucked out of the room. She could hardly breathe she was so angry and upset. "You're going to discriminate against my son on the basis of being something he_ isn't_? That's not legal!"

Principal Hartwell once again smiled his smarmy smile at her. "Oh, I assure you it is perfectly legal. We are a private school; we do not have to admit anyone we don't want to. And we do not want Wolves in our school. We are revoking Taylor's scholarship as of now."

"He's a straight A student. He helped you win the city debate tournament! How can you just kick him out? You're making him change schools right before his senior year!"

"That is not my concern, Ms…Detective Carter. Perhaps you should have thought of all that before you took up with Wolves."

* * *

Joss stormed into the ultra-high security apartment she shared with her mate, nicknamed 'The Bunker', slamming the door behind her.

John Reese had been napping on the couch with their daughter Cali Alexis on his chest. Both of them stirred and each opened one sleepy eye to regard Joss with identical silver blue eyes. Cali closed her eye and went back to sleep. John, seeing that his mate was highly agitated, carefully slipped off the couch, as he held his daughter to his chest without waking her. He took Cali into the nursery, laid her in her crib and then returned to the living room to find Joss pacing, growling, and radiating anger.

He interrupted her pacing to wrap his arms around her and pull her into a tight hug. "Wanna talk about it?" he whispered into her ear.

Joss wrapped her arms around his waist and put her forehead on his chest. "Taylor's getting kicked out of school."

John placed his forefinger under her chin and lifted, forcing her to look up at him. "What happened?" he growled.

"The school administration discovered that you and I are Wolf. No Wolves Allowed."

Joss saw John's eyes suddenly go glacial and his mouth compressed into a thin line. "Is that even legal?"

Joss pushed him away resume her pacing. "They're a private school, so yeah, legal. Discrimination laws don't apply to private organizations."

Joss rubbed her temples like she had a headache. "Not only that, but I was informed that you are _not_ his step father because the State of New York does not recognize Wolf matings as legitimate marriages.

"Dammit, John. It's like its 1950 all over again! I can't believe we still have to deal with this shit in the twenty-first century!"

John slid an arm around her. "Will you marry me?"

Joss pouted, "We're a bonded pair, we're already married. We shouldn't have to get married AGAIN."

"I know, but the reality is that we may have to." John kissed the top of her head. "It's the right thing to do for the kids. Besides, Finch will have a blast planning the ceremony."

Joss rolled her eyes at the thought of Finch planning an elaborate wedding ceremony and reception. She really hoped it wouldn't come to that. "There is a bill coming up in the state legislature in a few days to recognize Wolf matings as marriages. I guess we will have to see how that goes. The irony is that fifty years ago, we wouldn't have been able to get married because you're white and I'm black."

"See? Some progress has been made," John smirked at her.

She leaned against him and sighed. "Now we have to find to a new school for Taylor. Poor kid, he has to change schools for his senior year. All his friends are at Marbury!"

John scowled. "Maybe I should pay a visit to the principal," he said in a low, deadly tone of voice.

Joss arched an eyebrow at him. "And do what John? Threaten him? Act the way he expects a Wolf to act?"

John growled deep in his throat, acknowledging the truth in her words. "We'll think of something."


	3. Chapter 2 - New Number

**New Number**

The next morning, Finch was working in the library when he heard Bear give a happy yip and run to the stairs. He knew that meant John had arrived.

He was right; John walked in the door and gave Bear a good petting in greeting. "Morning Finch, do we have a new number?"

Before Finch could answer, Sam Shaw strolled into the room. "Harold, John," she nodded in greeting to the men. "I'm bored, I need a case."

Finch raised an eyebrow, "Well, you're just in time, Ms. Shaw. We received a new number this morning. The Reverend Edward McCarthy."

Shaw froze with her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. "Isn't that the guy who says Wolves, gays and atheists should all be rounded up and put in concentration camps for the good of the country?"

Finch looked unhappy; he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to end. "The very same," he replied.

Finch's fears were realized when Shaw spun on her heel. "Nope, I'm not protecting that piece of filth. Outta here. Call me if he turns out to be the perp and I'll shoot him for ya."

John and Harold watched her go without saying a word.

When she was out of sight, Finch turned to Reese. "How do you feel about working this number John? Frankly, I wouldn't blame you if you would rather take the day off."

John sighed, "I'll work on it, but the timing couldn't be worse. Taylor got kicked out of school yesterday because of anti-Wolf prejudice."

Finch's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "But he's not even Wolf!" Finch said in confusion.

"Joss and I are and apparently, that's enough." John paused and his face grew very angry. "They wouldn't even let Taylor call me in for the meeting since my mating with Joss is not an officially sanctioned marriage by the state so, according to the school, I'm not Taylor's stepfather."

Finch's mouth dropped open and it took him a moment to respond. He knew how important family was to John and how much it must have hurt his friend to hear that he was not considered Joss's husband and Taylor's father. "I'm sorry John, I had no idea. This is very bad timing." He paused. "I have no problems with determining that Reverend McCarthy is not worthy of our help and leaving him to his fate. Your lovely mate would probably chastise me for this…"

"Damn right I would."

John smiled and turned to see his Joss standing there with her arms crossed and her best Mom Look on her face. Fusco stood slightly behind her, rolling his eyes with a "You're in trouble now" expression on his face.

John smirked at her, "Hi honey. What are you doing here? Where's Cali?"

Joss raised an eyebrow. "Don't 'Hi Honey' me," she snapped irritably. "My mother wanted quality time with her latest grandbaby, so I thought I would see if I could help you with a number." And she glared at her mate.

Finch decided he had to intervene. "Do not be angry at John, Jocelyn. It was I who suggested that the Reverend might not be worthy of our help."

Joss relaxed visibly and sighed deeply. "How many times do I have to tell you two that we can't play God?"

Finch nodded and smiled his most disarming smile. "You provided a good example of that when you saved Elias. But I am surprised that you are willing to help McCarthy considering what happened yesterday with Taylor."

Joss frowned. "John told you about that, huh?"

"Yes, but I would like to hear about it from you if you don't mind." Finch folded his hands on the desk in front of him and looked attentive.

Joss started pacing again. "Not much to tell. Apparently, due to our 'violent nature'," she placed air quotes around the last two words, "Wolves are not allowed at Marbury High. Despite the fact that Taylor isn't Wolf, it's enough that John and I are. His scholarship has been revoked and he has been asked to leave the school."

Finch cocked his head to one side and looked puzzled. "They didn't tell you about this when you enrolled him?"

Joss shrugged. "I wasn't Wolf back then. Last night, I looked back over the paperwork they gave us when he enrolled and I didn't see anything about Wolves being banned; or anyone for that matter."

Finch pursed his lips, deep in thought. "I will call my lawyer; there must be something we can do."

Joss sighed. "Good luck with that. It's a private school, and private entities are free to discriminate. Remember the Boy Scout case?"

Finch nodded. "Yes I do. But I'll make some phone calls anyway." Finch smiled a particularly Wolfish smile for someone who wasn't Wolf. "I am not without a certain amount of influence since I have made several very generous donations to the school since you started working with us."

Joss and John both stared at the computer genius with their mouths hanging open. Joss spoke first, "You what? You never told me! John did you know?"

John chuckled and shook his head. "No, he never told me either."

Harold gave Joss a sheepish grin. "I didn't want you to think I was trying to buy your help or your favor, Detective; but I did want to pay you back somehow for everything you've done. I admit to being rather fond of Taylor myself, so keeping the school well-endowed so it could afford numerous scholarships, Taylor's among them, seemed like a good idea."

Fusco suddenly started to laugh and everyone looked over at him. "Finch you wouldn't happen to know anything about the anonymous donor who donated new playground equipment at Lee's school would you?"

Finch smiled a sly smile. "I plead the 5th."

Finch turned his attention back to Joss. "As I said, I am fond of Taylor and I'll see what I can do."

Joss smiled at her friend. "Thanks Finch." She turned to John, "Meanwhile, we're going to look for a new school. Taylor and I have an appointment today at 2 at a Franklin High and we were wondering if you would like to come?"

John nodded. "Of course if I can possibly be there I will. But Shaw is refusing to help with this case, so I may be tied up."

"The Littlest Rambo bailed on you? Figures." Fusco grumbled. "Not that I blame her much, it chaps my ass to see that hater rolling in dough and mixing with all the politicians."

"Don't think it doesn't bug me too," Joss snapped. "But we have a duty to perform. If we start picking and choosing who is worthy of help and who isn't…well, that's just a slippery slope we don't wanna be on."

Fusco rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. "I know you're right. I just don't have to be happy about it."

"No you don't," John agreed as he checked his watch. "Joss and I will go talk to McCarthy. Why don't you head for the precinct and see if you can find anything on him or his top people in the NYPD files."

Fusco stood up, "Sounds good, I don't want to go near the man if I can help it." He left after scratching Bear's ears.

Joss turned to her mate with an air of annoyance. "Are you going to impersonate a police officer again?"

John gave her an apologetic grin. "I don't think I have a choice." He held out his hand. "Shall we?"

Joss sighed and took the offered hand. "Yeah, let's get this over with."

They left, hand in hand.

Finch watched them go with a troubled expression on his face. As soon as they vanished down the stairs, he picked up his phone and dialed a number. "Hello, Ms. Morgan… Yes I am in need of your professional services…would it be possible for you met me at the dog park while I give Bear his afternoon constitutional?...Thank you, see you then."


	4. Chapter 3 - The Preacher

**The Preacher**

Carter and Reese entered the large, modern mega-church where the Reverend McCarthy tended his flock. The complex consisted of the church itself, which reportedly could seat over five thousand people, a couple of smaller auditoriums, and a five story office building attached to it in the back. It was all very sleek, modern, and expensive looking.

Their NYPD badges got them past security without incident and into the church sanctuary. A lackey was sent running to find someone high enough on the food chain who could deal with the detectives.

While they waited, Carter looked around at the soaring ceiling, the thousands of seats radiating out from the altar and the rich carpeting. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

Reese looked around impassively. "I haven't been in many churches."

Carter thought about it for few seconds then said, "I guess being raised Wolf meant a lot of religions were closed to you?"

John shrugged, "A lot of denominations have historically been hostile to Wolves, so no, most Wolves don't have much in the way of faith."

Up at the front of the enormous sanctuary, a group of about six men, all in expensive power suits, were talking and pointing around, like they were discussing the placement of something. They recognized the man in the middle of the group as their number, the Reverend Edward McCarthy.

Joss eyed the Reverend with contempt. "His suit looks more expensive than Finch's," she sniffed with disdain. She looked around the large cathedral. "This is the nicest church I have ever been in. It barely looks used."

"That's because we just had it renovated. Cost us millions of dollars." John and Joss turned around to see a short, pudgy man in a very expensive suit and wearing an obscenely large gold pinky ring. If Joss didn't know better she would have thought this was a Mafia Don and not a man of God. She still wasn't so sure he truly was a man of the Lord; no minister she had ever known dressed like a billionaire.

"I'm Reverend Angus Sheldon, Reverend McCarthy's personal assistant. How may I help you?"

Joss plastered her professional smile on her face and pulled out her badge while John did the same with Detective Stills' badge.

"I'm Detective Stills and this is my partner Detective Carter," Reese smiled pleasantly. "We need to have a word with Reverend McCarthy; it's quite urgent."

Sheldon eyed them suspiciously. "May I ask what this is about?"

Carter merely smiled. "We would need to discuss that with Mr. McCarthy. Please inform him it's urgent."

Sheldon scowled, plainly taking it as a personal affront that they wouldn't answer his questions. "I'll see what I can do," he said stiffly and he walked off.

"I don't think he likes us," John winked at his mate.

Joss smiled back at her mate in reply and shook her head. "I've noticed that happens a lot when I'm with you," she teased him fondly. John merely smirked back at her.

They watched as Sheldon approached McCarthy, pulled him away from the men he had been speaking with and whispered something in his ear while pointing to them. McCarthy looked in their direction and they both smiled pleasantly and nodded. McCarthy said something to Sheldon and went back to his conversation with the men. Sheldon made his way back to Reese and Carter.

"Reverend McCarthy wants me to escort you to his office. He's wrapping up his meeting with the executives from the TV network and he'll be with you in a few minutes."

Sheldon led them to the back of the building and through a short hallway to the office building, where they took an elevator to the top floor. They followed him down a hallway lined with numerous pictures of McCarthy with various celebrities and politicians. At the end of the "Walk of Fame", as Joss mentally started calling it, there was a pair of heavy oak doors. Sheldon threw open the doors to reveal a huge executive office with a sweeping view of the neighboring park and a mahogany desk the size of a compact car.

Sheldon gestured to the couches in the sitting area. "Please take a seat, Reverend McCarthy will be with you shortly."

John and Joss obediently took their seats and Sheldon left. As soon as the door closed, they were both up and exploring the enormous office.

The décor consisted mostly of more pictures of the Reverend with even bigger celebrities and politicians than the ones in the hallway. There were framed letters from the New York State Legislature and the House of Representatives thanking McCarthy for delivering the Morning Prayer, and McCarthy's Divinity degree from some college Joss had never heard of.

The room was dominated by a large portrait of McCarthy, in his robes, standing at the altar of the church, his arms spread, palms up with a large smile on his face. Joss had to admit he looked very preacher-like.

"This looks an awful lot like I imagine Finch's office at IFT looked, except his would have books all over the place instead of ego pictures," she commented idly while she flipped through a file on the desk and her mate swiftly concealed a couple of spy cameras in various locations in the office.

John paused as he was hiding a camera behind a picture of McCarthy with a Supreme Court Justice and smiled over at her. "He actually had an eight by eight cubicle on the third floor."

Joss started laughing. "You're not serious!"

John shrugged. "He didn't want anyone to know who he was. As soon as I found him there, he had himself laid off."

Joss eyebrows shot up her forehead. "Wow, that's hard core."

"That's Finch."

Joss finished looking around the office while John finished planting his spy cams. The opulence of the place bothered her. She had been raised in the church and still attended on important holidays or when her mother laid a guilt trip on her. She was used to preachers who bought off the rack suits at Men's Wearhouse and had small cramped offices in the back of the church, not large CEO style offices on the top floor facing a park. The whole thing just didn't seem very church-like to her.

"Done," John said. He and Joss sat back down on the couch and a minute later Reverend Edward McCarthy walked through the doors.

McCarthy was about Reese's age with a full head of iron gray hair that was perfectly coiffed. He was around six feet tall and built lean except for the slight paunch he had around his middle. Joss noticed his hands looked extraordinarily soft. Despite the overall impression of softness, he radiated charisma.

"I'm sorry for the wait; the network executives want to start broadcasting my sermons on Sunday mornings. We'll be live all across the nation every Sunday morning." He was immensely pleased with himself.

John stood up to shake hands with the preacher and he and Joss produced their badges and introduced themselves.

"Now what can this humble preacher do for the NYPD?" McCarthy asked with an insincere smile.

John resumed his seat while McCarthy seated himself in an armchair across from them.

"Reverend McCarthy, we have received a tip from a very reliable source that your life is in grave danger. We expect an attempt on your life in the next 24 to 48 hours," Joss explained, while John surreptitiously cloned McCarthy's phone

McCarthy merely smiled, completely unruffled. "I get death threats daily; I fail to see how this is worthy of your time."

Joss wanted to slap the smug, superior look off the man's face. "I don't think you understand, Reverend. This is not your run of the mill death threat. This is very, very serious."

McCarthy's smile indicated that he was not taking this seriously at all. "What do you suggest?"

This time John spoke as he put his phone back in his pocket. "Cancel all appearances for the next 48 hours and lay low until we find out who is after you."

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm scheduled to meet with some important legislators tomorrow to lobby against the bill legalizing Wolf matings. I have important work to do, the Lord's work, and I can't run and hide."

Joss kept her profession expression firmly in place, trying not to show her exasperation with the man and disgust with his views. "Reverend, who would want you dead? Do you have any enemies?"

"I have many enemies, Detective. I speak the truth about gays, Wolves, and atheists, so they all hate me. It doesn't matter though. I know that as long as I am doing God's work, he will protect and provide for me."

"Can you narrow it down a bit?" Joss asked.

McCarthy gave Joss one of the most patronizing looks she had ever gotten. "I would suggest you start in the Wolf community. You know how violent they can be."

Joss merely looked back at the minister with a bland expression on her face. "No, I don't," she said.

McCarthy seemed taken aback by that. "Um, well, do what you have to, Detective, but my schedule is fixed. Now, if you will excuse me, I have several very important appointments." He stood up to indicate the meeting was over.

Carter and Reese both rose to their feet, shook his hand, and left.

Sheldon was waiting outside the office doors to escort them to the street. As they were walking down the hallway to the elevator, Joss took out her phone and began cloning Sheldon's phone while John smirked at her. Once they reached the elevator, Sheldon stood in front with his back to them, so Joss smiled and showed her phone John to indicate the cloning was successful. John smiled back at her and gave her a little air kiss to acknowledge he understood.

Once the elevator doors opened on the first floor, Sheldon wordlessly escorted them all the way to the street. He held the door for them and politely wished them a good day in the same tone of voice a bored cashier would use.

As Sheldon firmly closed the door behind them, John looked over at Joss and growled. "Admittedly I haven't spent a lot of time in churches, but that place didn't strike me as a house of God."

Joss lifted her upper lip in a small snarl. "Only if your Gods are money and celebrity." She shook her head. "That man is certainly cavalier about his own safety,"

John shrugged. "If he gets a lot of death threats, he probably just got used to it."

Joss smiled at her mate. "Like you did, you mean?"

John slipped an arm around her as they began walking to their car. "Death threats all tend to run together after a while."

Joss laughed at her mate. "I did learn something very interesting about our number though."

"Oh really? What?"

"McCarthy's Wolf."

Joss did not get the chance to surprise John often, so she got considerable satisfaction out of his shocked expression. "What?"

Joss dimpled at him. "Yep, I would say that he was half Wolf and he's very good at not broadcasting. He's probably been hiding it for many years. But he let it slip when I didn't agree with him and I felt his confusion. He's not used to anyone disagreeing with him, that's for sure."

"He's surrounded himself with yes men." John looked thoughtful. "So, we have a closeted Wolf that is going to spend tomorrow lobbying against state recognition of Wolf matings. Interesting."

Joss turned serious. "John, if he does get murdered and the killer does turn out to be Wolf…"

John nodded grimly and finished her sentence, "…it could set Wolf Rights back by years. Yes I know. That makes it even more important that we find the killer and stop them."

Joss checked her watch. "Well the killer will have to wait for a bit. We have that appointment at Franklin High."

John led her back to the car. "I planted enough cameras in his office, I think Finch can keep an eye on the preacher for a while."

* * *

That night John came home late to a dark apartment. He did a quick security sweep of the premises and, seeing a light on in the nursery, he went there.

He paused in the doorway with smile on his face when he saw his mate nursing their child. He would never get used to seeing such a wondrous sight; the woman he loved nurturing the child he never thought he could have.

Joss smiled when she saw him appear in the doorway. "The good Reverend in bed for the night?"

John nodded. "He should be safe until morning. His apartment has decent security and he has a bodyguard. His driver's supposed to pick him up at 8."

Joss nodded and turned her attention back to their daughter. John quietly leaned against the door jamb watching as Joss gently rocked Cali while she suckled at her mother's breast. Joss cooed and talked in a low soothing voice to the baby while she fed. Gradually Cali relaxed and stopped sucking; she was fast asleep. Joss gracefully rose from the rocking chair and gently placed Cali in the crib without waking her.

John walked silently over to Joss while she stood next to the crib staring down at the child. He slipped his arms around her from behind and rested his cheek on top of her head while he too regarded the little miracle they had created together.

The parents just stared at their daughter for several minutes and then John gently led Joss to their own bedroom. She was already dressed for bed in one of John's dress shirts and she helped John out of his clothes and into a pair of pajama bottoms, landing numerous kisses on his body while she did so.

"You had better stop, or you won't get any sleep tonight," John growled playfully at his mate.

In response, Joss gave him a sly smile and ran her tongue around his nipple while John closed his eyes and sucked in his breath sharply. Joss gently ran her fingernails down his stomach until she reached the top of the pajama bottoms. "Sleep is overrated," she said in a deep, husky voice.

John's response was to throw her on the bed and pounce on top of her.

"Is this my shirt?" he asked as he undid one of the buttons.

"Not anymore," she dimpled at him.

"Suppose I want it back?" he asked, as his lips found hers.

When he finally released her mouth she looked up at him with hooded eyes, heavy with desire, "You'll just have to take it off me then," she purred.

John was more than willing to do that. He began unbuttoning the shirt, kissing her body as he worked his way down, while Joss arched her back and moaned.

John's mouth captured Joss's nipple in his mouth and he began sucking until he was rewarded with a few drops of breast milk. He suckled greedily, to him it was erotic as hell that his mate could nourish their child with her body.

"John, save some for the baby!" Joss laughed.

John smiled up at her, "You can make more."

He reached down to lightly touch her clit and was rewarded with an "Oh God!" from his mate. He smiled against her breast as he gently and loving manipulated her clitoris to bring her to a quick climax. Joss was soon thrashing, moaning and gasping under John's expert touch.

John lay next her propped up on one arm, watching his beloved's face as she undulated with pleasure. He loved watching her. Lazily, he reached down and bit her neck, renewing the mating scar that marked her as his. She came hard and fast, just as John had intended. He gently kissed the love of his life and nuzzled her as she came down off her high.

She responded by pushing him over onto his back and mounting him. John's eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned with pleasure as she slid down his erection, completely sheathing him inside of her. He opened his eyes and watched her as she began to move on top of him. He loved this position as her gorgeous body was on full display to him. He loved being able to see her full breasts, tiny waist and round hips as she rode him. He slowly ran his hands over her, touching her, and reveling in the feel of her soft skin under his fingers.

Joss increased her speed and John's hands slid down to grip her hips firmly. He thrust up against her, matching her thrust for thrust. Gradually they picked up the pace until Joss was pounding herself against him. Just before she came, she reached down and sank her teeth into his neck, just at the junction of his shoulder, renewing her mating mark on him. Seconds later, she came with a muffled cry and collapsed onto her mate's chest. John only needed another couple of thrusts before he emptied himself into her.

Joss rolled off him with a sated smile and snuggled up to his side. John smiled as he gently nuzzled his mate.

"I love you," he purred softly in her ear.

"I love you too," she whispered as she closed her eyes and tipped her head allowing her mate access to her neck.

John lightly moved his lips across her neck planting soft kisses as he went. Sensing that she was melancholy about something, he pulled back. "What's wrong?' he asked, as he tenderly pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

Joss sighed deeply; having a mate who was so closely bonded had its disadvantages. "Just wondering about Cali and what kind of world she'll be growing up in. The kind of world where McCarthy can spew his hate and get rich off it, the kind of world where Taylor can get kicked out of school even though he's not a Wolf. People are going to hate her for something she has no control over, something she had no choice in."

John stroked her cheek. "We can't send her back."

Joss gave a little laugh, "Believe me, I know. I just want her to be happy."

"You worried about Taylor too, growing up as a black male, didn't you? And yet you did an amazing job with him. I'm not saying this is going to be easy, but we'll do this together."

Joss smiled as she snuggled closer. "There is no one I would rather do this with."

"I feel the same way, love," John murmured into her hair as she settled against him.

As usual, they fell asleep holding each other close, content in the knowledge that they had each other.


	5. Chapter 4 - Rev Schmidt

**Rev. Schmidt**

John, Joss, and Lionel met with Finch the next morning at Finch's favorite diner for breakfast and a case briefing.

"Did you find anything in the police files?" Finch asked Fusco as he sat down.

"Not much," Fusco grumbled. "I ran complete background checks on McCarthy and his entire inner circle. Aside from a couple of parking tickets, the whole lot is clean. The only exception is a fraud allegation in a lawsuit filed against McCarthy's ministry a few years ago, but the DA investigated and found nada."

"Who was the accuser?" John asked, his interest piqued.

Fusco pushed a file across the table to Reese. "Former member of McCarthy's inner circle by the name of Schmidt. He was McCarthy's right hand man until he got disillusioned by the fact that church money was going into quote "a publicity machine and cult of personality" rather than into good works. Reverend Schmidt now runs the soup kitchen over on 10th."

John nodded. "I'm familiar with it." During his days among the homeless, he'd had a few meals there and remembered it to be a well-run organization. He flipped through the file and handed it back to Fusco. "You and Joss should have a talk with Schmidt. Even if he's not involved in the current threat, he may have some insight. He was part of McCarthy's inner circle for a long time."

John turned to Finch, "Any luck finding McCarthy's parents?"

Finch nodded his head. "Some. McCarthy's mother is living in a luxury nursing home, and I was able to access her medical records; she is not Wolf. I checked his birth certificate and his father is listed as a man that his mother did not marry until McCarthy was 5 years old, so I suspect he is not McCarthy's biological father. The document is probably an amended birth certificate; we'll have to get our hands on the original document.

"I'll call Ms. Shaw and get her on it. Since she refuses to help us protect McCarthy, maybe outing him as Wolf is more to her liking. I'm sure with her resourcefulness she can track the original down."

Fusco snorted, "The assignment doesn't involve shooting anyone, so I dunno if The Pocket Commando will do it."

"I'll offer to buy her a steak," Finch deadpanned, and Fusco laughed.

John smiled broadly. "I'm going to spend the day tailing McCarthy. He's spending the day at the capitol lobbying against the bill to recognize Wolf matings as legitimate marriages. With the media following his every step, of course."

"I still think we should just leave this guy to his just desserts," Fusco grumbled as he speared a piece of egg. "We should just let the Karma Express Delivery Service do its job."

Joss gave her partner her best Mom Look over the edge of her coffee cup as she took a sip.

The look had the desired affect, Fusco squirmed like a little boy. "What? The guy is trying to destroy your family!"

Carter frowned, "I know, I know. But _we're_ supposed to be better than that."

John kissed her and stood up, "And that moral compass is why I love you. I'll call you later." Then he left the diner.

* * *

Carter and Fusco arrived at the 10th Street Soup Kitchen and asked for Reverend Schmidt and a cheerful young volunteer scurried off to find the minister. As the detectives waited, they looked around the facility. The dining room looked well used, but spotless, a cleanliness that was difficult to achieve when your clients didn't have regular access to running water. The walls were lined with numerous colorful posters advertising various services for the poor and homeless, such as a free clinic, a food bank, and the Veterans Administration.

As Joss looked around, she got a small pang in her heart knowing that John had been here during the dark time in his life when he thought the only thing left for him was to slowly kill himself with booze. She imagined a bedraggled John sitting at one of the long tables with his head down, shoulders hunched, ashamed of how far he had fallen, as he ate a rare hot meal. She was glad that the place was clean and cheerful and the staff seemed friendly as they nodded and smiled at the two police officers. At least John had been treated well here.

Fusco looked over at her, his own Wolf sense picking up on her pensive mood. But he was confused as to why she would be feeling that way.

Joss felt Fusco's confusion and smiled reassuringly at her partner. "I'm OK, I was just thinking about how John came here before we met him. When he was homeless and drinking."

"Oh." Fusco understood what she was saying. He looked around the room with new eyes. "I never saw him like that. You and Finch had him cleaned up by the time he rolled my car."

"He looked bad. He had this long, dirty beard and hair, dirty rags for clothes, the whole nine yards. But his eyes, lord Lionel, his eyes were so sad." Joss paused and sighed. "I asked him if he needed help, but he never answered me." Then Joss smiled. "He didn't need the VA, he needed Finch and the numbers."

Fusco smiled. "He needed you too, Joss. You reminded him there were good people in the world, people worth fighting for. John was always meant to be an Alpha, to protect people. You, Finch, and the pack, all played a part in making John who he was supposed to be."

From behind them, they heard a throat being cleared.

"Hello, I'm Jeremy Schmidt, how can I help you?" Joss and Lionel both turned to greet the Reverend.

The Reverend Schmidt turned out to be middle aged with a fringe of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair around his otherwise bald head. He wore a faded pair of jeans, a pair of work boots that had seen better days, and the collar on his short sleeve, button down shirt was frayed a bit. Despite the worn clothing, he had an air of someone who had found his calling and was deeply content with his life.

To Joss, the contrast between this man and the men at McCarthy's ministry was quite striking. Though Schmidt's clothes had probably cost less McCarthy's tie, and his surroundings were much less posh, he seemed happier, more at peace. He seemed more minister-like.

Joss and Lionel both showed their badges. "Reverend Schmidt, we're here to ask you about a threat to the life of Edward McCarthy."

Schmidt rolled his eyes. "Ah yes, the lawsuit. I suppose that makes me a suspect."

"We are just following all our leads, Reverend," Fusco tried to reassure the man.

Schmidt just gave Fusco the side eye. "Please don't insult my intelligence, Detective. I understand you have to do your job. Let's talk in my office; some of our clients are understandably twitchy around the long arm of the law."

He turned and led the way up the stairs to the second floor. His office was a small room that barely fit the three of them.

"So how can I help you?" Schmidt asked as he settled down in his chair.

Joss began, "We've become aware of a credible threat to the life of Edward McCarthy. We understand that you used to work for him but you left and sued him for fraud. Care to tell us about that?"

Schmidt nodded, "It's hardly a secret. I believed in McCarthy and I worked hard for him and his ministry. We started small but Eddie is charismatic, so we grew."

Schmidt paused. His eyes were far away as he remembered the good old days. Then he shook his head.

"But a few years ago, I was a guest at a church in the Bible Belt. As I was doing the Meet and Greet, a woman handed me a picture of a beautiful girl, a teenager, around 15 years old. I complimented the woman on her lovely daughter…and the woman told me she was dead. Because of _me_."

Schmidt leaned heavily on his desk and looked at the detectives, his eyes filled with sadness. "You see the girl was Wolf and she was bullied mercilessly by her classmates. After a few years of constant abuse the child… killed herself. Hung herself from a tree in the front yard. Her poor mother found her when she got home from work that night."

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his face. "All the hate Eddie and I had been preaching all those years came home to roost on my conscience. I had never been confronted with the results of my actions before. On an intellectual level, I knew that Wolves were discriminated against and many of them had very hard lives, but I justified it by thinking they brought it on themselves. I didn't know any Wolves personally so I never really understood just how human Wolves were, nor did I understand that Wolves have real human feelings. They just weren't _real_ to me. I came face to face with myself at that moment and I didn't like what I saw. We weren't preaching the word of God and the Savior; we were just run of the mill hatemongers."

Schmidt bowed his head briefly, but Joss saw the guilt and regret plainly written on his face, and she felt sorry for him.

Schmidt looked up at the detective again and continued his narrative. "Once I opened my eyes, I realized just how corrupt the ministry had become. I tried to get Eddie to see the light, but he wouldn't listen. I persisted and after several months of trying to change the ministry from the inside, I was fired." He smiled an ironic smile.

"It was actually a relief to be out of there. Once word got out, I started getting calls from other employees who had been fired or left and I discovered that many of the church's so-called good works were shams. We weren't just hatemongers, we were swindlers too. Believers were sending money thinking they were helping a legitimate charity, but in reality all the money was going into overhead and administrative costs. The ministry has one of the worst ratios of overhead spending to spending on real charitable work of any organization out there. So I sued to bring attention to it."

"But the lawsuit didn't go anywhere, did it?" Fusco prompted.

Schmidt looked down at this desk sadly, then up at the detectives. "No. The ministry has a highly competent public relations firm representing them." Schmidt gave them a bitter smile. "They can afford the best." The smile faded and he continued, "I was portrayed as the disgruntled former employee who was out for revenge. The case was tried in the media; we never even made it to the courtroom. The ministry could also afford the best lawyers, and they got the case dismissed on a technicality."

"That must have been hard to take," Joss said.

Schmidt nodded. "Oh it was. Donations to the ministry actually went _**up**_ if you can believe that. Eddie made an appeal for money to fight the lawsuit 'brought by the forces of darkness!'" Schmidt boomed the last part in a pitch perfect imitation of McCarthy's charismatic style. He paused again and sighed deeply. "I think he _**made**_ money off the lawsuit. As hard as it was, I moved on. I started this place and I have never been so content. I finally feel like I am doing the work I went to divinity school to do in the first place, the work God intended for me." He waved his hand. "Eddie can keep his mighty palace to excess and hate. _**This**_ is what Jesus would do."

Though the man in front of her was not Wolf, Carter sensed that he was sincere. She could tell by Lionel's' face the he, too, thought the man in front of them was telling the truth. She decided to pump him for information on McCarthy and his inner circle.

She leaned forward. "Reverend, what can you tell us about Eddie McCarthy?"

Schmidt sighed. "You've met him?" Joss nodded. "Then you know he is charismatic and an egomaniac. He is convinced he is the smartest person in the room, and he often is, but not always. When he is not, his ego won't allow him to admit it. He surrounds himself with Yes Men, so he has no reality check. I've noticed his public statements are getting more and more outrageous and his hate mongering is getting worse; I'm sure that is a direct result of the fact that no one reels him in."

Joss nodded. She had been doing research on the Reverend and had noticed that his anti-Wolf rhetoric had been ramping up over the years. "Tell us about the people around him," she asked.

Schmidt made a rude noise. "Weasels in expensive suits, all of them. Anyone of them would push Eddie down a flight of stairs and take over the ministry if they had the chance. Their only God is money, as long as hate is profitable, they will hate. Once it's no longer profitable they'll find another angle."

Fusco's phone buzzed and he looked down at it. He made a sour face. "Sorry I got to take this, it's my ex and she only calls me about Lee."

Joss waved her hand, "Go, I'll be down in a minute."

Fusco nodded and left the room as he answered his phone.

Joss turned to Schmidt. "Just one last thing Reverend and I'll get out of your way. I want to thank you for doing this. Someone very important to me used to eat here…and… just thank you for taking care of him."

Schmidt bowed his head. "That's why I'm here, Detective. Since you used past tense, I trust things are better for him now?"

Joss smiled and nodded. "Yes, they are."

"I am delighted to hear that. Go in peace."

"You too, Reverend."


	6. Chapter 5 - The Attack

**The Attack**

Reese loitered outside McCarthy's office building. It was easy for him to fit into the crowd since there were several reporters and TV crews hanging around outside expecting McCarthy to make some remarks before he left for Albany to lobby against the legalization of Wolf matings. _Of course McCarthy would take every opportunity to court publicity_, Reese thought darkly.

From a security standpoint, this was about the last thing McCarthy should be doing. The podium where he would make his remarks was set up in a spot that allowed the maximum number of people to view him. The path between the podium and the limo idling at the curb was completely out in the open. There were so many vantage points where an assassin could shoot from that Reese stopped counting. McCarthy was a sitting duck.

Reese looked over at the reporters, keeping his face impassive. He had posed as a reporter a few times during his CIA career. Press credentials were ridiculously easy to fake, and they got you just about everywhere you wanted to go. Any person in that group could be a killer.

Adding to the list of possible threats, there was gaggle of groupies being kept behind a velvet rope by a couple of beefy but obviously untrained and untested bodyguards.

McCarthy strode out of the building a few minutes later, a big grin on his face and started glad handing various groupies who were hanging out to meet him. Reese checked his watch, McCarthy was only a few minutes past his announced departure time. Then Reese went back surveying their surroundings for threats.

McCarthy walked up to the podium that had been set up on the building steps and started spouting hate.

"My friends, traditional values are under attack from the forces of darkness. We are being asked to accept the matings of Wolves as legitimate marriage equal to our own traditional marriage. I will not stand idly by and allow this attack on our way of life to continue without a fight. Today I will go to the halls of government to fight this travesty. I call upon all right thinking men and women to join with me in this fight. Let's save traditional marriage. Thank you."

Reese watched as McCarthy finished up his remarks and shook some more hands. Suddenly Reese saw a man of average height and average build, wearing a nondescript beige jacket and baseball cap pull a gun and aim for the preacher.

"GUN!" Reese shouted as he lunged for the shooter. He managed to grab the would-be assassin's arm just in time and the shots went wide. Panic ensued, people ran in all directions screaming. One of McCarthy's bodyguards shoved the preacher roughly to the ground and then fell on top of him. Since the bodyguard weighted at least a hundred pounds more than McCarthy, McCarthy began screaming at him to get off. McCarthy's other body guard lunged for the shooter but hit Reese instead knocking him to the ground and allowing the shooter to escape in the chaos.

Reese shoved the bodyguard off him and leapt to his feet, absolutely furious that the bodyguard's incompetence had allowed the shooter to escape. He pulled Stills's badge from his pocket and waved it in the air. "Detective Stills, NYPD!" he shouted.

He grabbed McCarthy and started dragging him to the car. "Let's get you some place safe."

"What about my bodyguards?" McCarthy squeaked in terror.

"They aren't safe," John snarled with ill humor as he roughly tossed McCarthy into the back seat. "Keep your head down." John started the car and peeled away from the curb.

When they were safe distance away, John tapped his earpiece. "Finch, someone made an attempt on McCarthy."

"Is Mr. McCarthy alright?" Finch asked anxiously.

"Aside from nearly getting squashed by his own bodyguard, he's fine. I have him and I'm on my way to the safe house. Have Joss and Lionel meet me there."

* * *

John led the Reverend up the stairs to the second floor and punched in the code to open the door to the safe house.

McCarthy followed John into the apartment looking around. "This is acceptable," he said calmly.

John raised an eyebrow. The safe house was Finch's usual luxurious home with high end furnishings and appliances, and this fool thought it was _acceptable_? "Glad it meets your standards," he said with a bit of a smirk. "Wait here and don't move."

John performed his usual security sweep on the premises. He verified all windows and doors were locked, all curtains were drawn so no one could see in and there were no hidden bugs in the house. Once he was done, he returned to where he had left McCarthy sitting in the living room.

"You should be safe here until we figure out who is trying to kill you."

McCarthy glared at John. "I can't stay here forever; I told you that yesterday, Detective. I have a full schedule. I've already missed several appointments with some very important politicians in Albany."

John rolled his eyes, "Did you miss the part where someone is trying to kill you?"

Finch limped in the door with Bear a few minutes later. Finch unleashed the dog and he hopped up on the couch and stretched out with a happy smile. McCarthy sniffed and moved over as far as he could from the dog and brushed some imaginary pieces of dog hair off his pants.

"It seems the attempt on Mr. McCarthy's life is all over the news right now. However despite all the news crews on hand, none of them were recording when the shots were actually fired."

Reese shrugged. "I'm not surprised, McCarthy was done speaking so they had their sound bite."

Finch frowned and set his laptop on the table. "I'll see if I can get raw footage from the TV stations, they may have caught the shooter in the crowd when Mr. McCarthy was speaking. Was the shooter Wolf?"

Reese shook his head. "I didn't feel anything off him, but then I'm not as strong as Joss."

McCarthy, who had been sitting quietly by during the exchange suddenly lifted his head and glared at Reese. "Wait you're WOLF? You didn't mention that when we talked yesterday."

Reese turned his head and smirked at the Reverend but his soft voice carried that undercurrent of menace that was so familiar to the criminals of New York, "You didn't ask."

McCarthy eyed Finch with suspicion. "You don't look like you're Wolf."

Finch regarded the reverend. "No, I'm not. I'm afraid with my infirmities, running as a Wolf would be impossible for me. I do however own this home. You may call me Mr. Crane."

McCarthy paced angrily. "I don't like being around Wolves." He shot a pointed look at Reese who kept his face impassive and said nothing.

Finch raised an eyebrow. "Considering Detective Stills here just saved your life I would think you would be more grateful."

"Wolves usually have an agenda. I'm sure you know what I mean, Mr. Crane." McCarthy informed him primly.

"I assure you that I have no idea what you mean and I'm not sure I want to know," Finch said politely but firmly as he looked the preacher squarely in the eye.

McCarthy wasn't quite sure how to handle Finch's polite rebuke. He sputtered and then finally was able to recover enough to say, "If you are in charge here, I demand non-Wolf protection."

Finch regarded McCarthy with a steady, disapproving stare. "Yes, I am in charge here and no, I do not have any non-Wolf protection available. However if you find being under the protection of a highly trained and experienced Wolf so intolerable, you are more than welcome to leave. Of course I should warn you that at this time we do not know who is trying to kill you and we are unsure whom you can trust. I give you my personal assurance that you are currently under the protection of the best this city has to offer."

McCarthy shuffled his feet and muttered something. Finch took it to mean _I'm not leaving_. It seemed his sense of self-preservation trumped his hatred for Wolves.

McCarthy looked over at John; John glared his most menacing glare back. McCarthy quickly looked away, missing John's cheerful smirk. Finch however didn't miss it and shot his employee a look that clearly said _Behave_. John gave Finch his best innocent _Who Me?_ look in return. Finch rolled his eyes.

Finch sighed a long suffering sigh. "As there are numerous security cameras in the area, I should be able to get some pictures of the shooter, and you and the detectives can start canvassing your various CIs to see if anyone recognizes him."

Joss and Lionel walked in just then. McCarthy eyed both newcomers with disdain and then turned to Finch. "More Wolves, I take it?"

Finch nodded cheerfully as he set up his laptop and portable printer on the dining room table. "Yes. As I said, they are the best."

"Not according to my religion and to God," McCarthy informed him in a tone of voice that plainly said he considered that the last word.

Finch looked at the preacher, his eyes hard as ice. "I admit I am not a religious man. However, if the practice of your faith hinges on the degradation of God's creations might I suggest you've missed the mark entirely?"

McCarthy gaped at Finch, but wisely held his tongue while Finch turned his attention to hacking the security cameras around the church office building.

"Having any luck?" John came to stand behind his employer.

Finch shook his head, plainly frustrated. "Whoever the gunman is, he is either very lucky or very good. None of the cameras got a good view of his face."

"I don't believe in luck," John growled deep in this throat.

Finch turned stiffly to look up at his friend. "Meaning?"

"I think this was a professional hit. When all hell broke loose, the man reacted exactly as I would have. He avoided all the security cameras and he definitely had a plan for his escape."

Fusco grunted, "So if he's a pro, someone had to ask around looking to hire him."

Reese nodded. "And if someone was looking to hire a hit man, our usual informants may know something."

Lionel headed for the door. "I have a few CIs to talk to."

Joss started to follow him. "I'll talk to Elias."

Reese swiftly moved to block her. "No, let me talk to him, I don't want you around _**him**_." Reese spat out the word 'him' like it was an expletive.

Joss rolled her eyes. "Elias owes me for saving his life, John. He isn't a threat to me."

John's lip curled in a snarl, his protective Wolf fully in evidence. "I saved his life too, and he still locked me in a freezer with a baby. Stay away from him."

Joss's hackles rose like they did when John went into Alpha Wolf mode with her, but Reese sensing his mate's growing ire planted a gentle and loving kiss on her. "Please baby, let me do this." He gently nuzzled her, softly grazing his nose and lips over her cheekbone to her ear and plating a soft kiss there. "Please," he whispered into her ear so quietly she barely heard him.

Whenever John kissed her like that Joss had trouble thinking for several minutes afterwards. Her body reacted at a very primitive level. She just wanted to drag his sexy ass back into the bedroom and have her way with him. Damn that man, he knew how to play her like a musical instrument. "Alright John, I'll stay with McCarthy."

John gave her another gentle kiss. "Thank you."

John fixed McCarthy with a glare that would have peeled paint off the walls. "Do not contact anyone, turn your phone off and remove the battery." Then he turned and left. McCarthy sputtered in indignation at being spoken to like a child but was unable to protest before John left.

Joss took a moment clam her raging libido before she returned to the living room. "Can I use your laptop? I might as well login to the police DB and look for similar MOs while I'm stuck here," she grumbled to Finch.

Finch waved his hand in the direction of the laptop. "Of course, Detective. I shall return to our base of operations in case John or Lionel need me." Finch gave a meaningful look in McCarthy's direction. "Good luck."

Joss gave Finch a rueful smile and snorted. "Thanks, I have a feeling might need it."


	7. Chapter 6 - Second Attack

**Second Attack**

John approached the warehouse where Elias kept his headquarters. From the outside it looked like any regular old warehouse in not-so-good repair. But John knew that on the inside it was quite luxurious and comfortable. Elias had excellent taste and he enjoyed his comforts.

John approached the warehouse cautiously. He was well known to most of Elias's organization as a sort of friend, but new people were getting recruited all the time. He didn't want to provoke anyone, Joss would never let him hear the end of it if there was a shootout, and he did want to stay on Elias's good side, at least for now.

Fortunately he recognized all the men loitering outside the warehouse and they recognized him. They nodded to him, the stiff nods of men who were not particularly happy to see you, but had no choice but to be polite. Reese nodded back and entered the warehouse.

He was met just inside the door by one of Elias's inner circle, a man with name of Van Gogh because he had lost an ear in a knife fight. He had been one of Elias's loyal lieutenants from the very first and had been one of the men who locked John in the freezer truck with baby Leila.

"What do you want?" Van Gogh growled.

"I would like to see my friend Elias, of course," John smirked back.

Van Gogh made a sour face; he didn't like being reminded that Elias considered Reese a friend to whom he owed a blood debt for saving his life from the Russian mob. To make matters worse, Elias also owed Joss a blood debt for saving his life from HR as well. This meant that both John and Joss were untouchable to the organization, and most of the organization was not happy about it.

"Wait here," Van Gogh spun on his heel and stalked off.

He returned a few minutes later. "Follow me," he said gruffly.

John followed the man past a row of wine barrels, their oaken smell filling his nose. Van Gogh opened a door and escorted John into a comfortable kitchen with high end appliances and a large table in the middle that could seat 12 people easily. Seated at one end was Carl Elias, crime boss and next to him was his right hand man, Anthony Marconi, street name Scarface.

Elias smiled broadly. "John! It's been too long! Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

Elias was quite pleased to see John; he always was. John got the feeling that aside from the fact that John had saved him from the Russians, Elias seemed to genuinely like him. He was also quite positive that Elias had a small crush on his mate.

By contrast, Marconi looked like he had seen a cockroach. Scarface had made no secret of the fact that he loathed John, having once told John the he didn't understand why Elias didn't just kill him.

Scarface was the real reason John didn't want his mate coming anywhere near Elias. John knew Elias's sense of honor would not allow him to let any harm come to Joss, but John didn't like the way Scarface ogled her whenever he got the chance. Joss ignored it; she was quite used to the unwelcome attention of various lowlifes since she became a cop. John usually let Joss handle such situations, but something about the way Scarface would openly stare at her bothered him more than usual. John knew he and Scarface would have a very violent collision someday and John was looking forward to putting Scarface down like a rabid dog.

John nodded his head. "Thanks. But I can't stay long."

Elias sighed a dramatic sigh as he poured John some coffee and handed it to him., "You never do, John. How is your lovely mate? I miss her."

John smiled as he always did when talking about Joss. "She's fine. She's recovered from the birth."

Elias's eyes lit up at the mention of the birth. "That reminds me, I have a gift for your darling cub."

Scarface left the room, returning quickly with a large box wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a large pink and silver bow. John had to work very hard to keep from laughing at the absurdity of a vicious crime lord buying his daughter a present and wrapping it up in frilly, girlie fashion.

"Thank you Elias, that was very generous of you," John managed to say without giving away his amusement.

Elias waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal, "A baby is a precious thing to be celebrated, my friend. Even more so when it is the child of such good people. I am happy to do it. Now, what can I do for you?"

John sipped his coffee. "I assume you have heard about the attempt on the life of the Reverend Edward McCarthy this morning?"

Elias nodded his head. "The only surprise was that it took so long for someone to take a shot at the hatemonger. But I assure you that we had nothing to do with it. Contract killings are forbidden under my agreement with Detective Carter."

After Joss had saved Elias from the corrupt police organization HR, they had forged an agreement that Elias would keep a low profile. John and Joss both knew Elias was slowly rebuilding his organization, but Elias was very careful to do it in such a way that no innocent civilians were injured or killed; his sense of honor demanded he keep his promise. John wasn't sure how much longer Elias could keep it up, but he would deal with that when the time came.

"I know you wouldn't violate your agreement with Joss, but not a lot happens in this city without you knowing something about it." John tilted his head to the side and waited.

A slow, sly smile spread across Elias's face. John had just acknowledged the power of his organization and he was quite pleased with the compliment that he had just been paid. "I do know a bit, the contract was originally offered to our organization but we turned it down in deference to our agreement with Jocelyn. I believe the contract was accepted by a British organization."

"Who put the contract out?" John sipped his coffee. It was delicious, of course.

Elias shook his head regretfully. "No way of knowing, John. Whoever put the contract out was quite careful to avoid identifying themselves. I was sent a letter via bike courier and that courier met with a very unfortunate accident a few hours later."

"There was nothing to indicate who put the contract out?"

Elias shrugged. "They were very careful, but that's not unusual in these circumstances."

John growled in frustration, this was a dead end. He stood up and put his coffee mug down. "Thanks for the intel."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be more help John; I will keep my ears to the ground and let you know if the contract comes up again." Elias smiled and held out his hand.

John shook his hand. "Thanks." He nodded towards Scarface with a bit of a smirk. "Bye, Tony."

Scarface gave John a hard look, his eyes brimming with contempt. "Give my regards to Jocelyn," Marconi said flatly.

On that note, John left to return to the safe house.

* * *

Joss wasn't too happy when the rest of the team left, leaving her to babysit their racist number. She could appreciate the irony though; after all, she was the one who insisted they work this particular case, so she might as well suck it up. Besides, John promised to return as soon as he was done talking with Elias and bring some lunch with him.

McCarthy was rooting around in the kitchen, so Joss decided to get started searching through the NYPD files looking for similar MOs. She settled down at the laptop Finch had left behind, logged in the NYPD system and was soon engrossed her search.

After a while she felt a pair of eyes on her. Joss looked up from the computer to see McCarthy staring at her. "Do you need something Mr. McCarthy?" she asked with icy politeness.

"Do you mind if I turn on the TV? I can turn it to BET if you would like." McCarthy gave her a smarmy smile.

Joss, however, had been a black woman cop for a very long time. She was quite used to such insults and she had learned long ago how to respond. "I prefer the Military Channel. They have a good documentary on the Tuskegee Airman on tonight that I think you should watch," she said sweetly; and she went back to her search.

A few minutes later, she felt McCarthy's eyes on her again; she looked up and caught him staring at her for the second time. "This is getting old," she snapped.

McCarthy jumped, realizing he had been caught again. "You don't look Wolf."

Joss raised an eyebrow at him. "Really, just what does a Wolf look like then?" she asked in a frosty tone of voice.

McCarthy shifted uncomfortably under Joss's cold stare. "Your...um... friend Detective Stills is a classic Wolf."

Joss crossed her arms and her eyes bore holes into McCarthy. "The proper term is mate, he is my _mate_. Yes, he is a classic Wolf descended from several of the Old Bloodlines, but Wolves are as diverse as non-Wolf humans."

McCarthy squirmed again, but remained defiant. "Were you born a Wolf or did you choose this…lifestyle?"

Joss's upper lip curled in a snarl, "Not that it is any of your business; the answer is neither. I was bleeding out from a gut wound and John turned me to save my life. But let me tell you one thing, Mr. McCarthy, I have not regretted it for one minute."

McCarthy stared at her, his mouth hanging open and eyes wide with shock, completely unable to comprehend Joss's lack of regret over being turned into a creature he considered unholy and unclean. Joss smiled a little smile of triumph.

"Yep, never once regretted it. I love being a Wolf. I love my mate, I love our child." McCarthy opened his mouth to say something and Joss held one finger up in the air. "Wait, stop," she said firmly, her eyes hard and cold. "If you say one bad thing about my baby, I will shoot you myself." McCarthy, realizing she was not kidding, slammed his mouth shut. "Good boy," Joss snapped.

"You see Mr. McCarthy, when I became Wolf, I gained a whole pack of friends I can count on. They are bankers, lawyers, mechanics, doctors. They are just normal people; not an evil one in the bunch. My mate spends his life protecting people, including _you_. So you tell me, just how is that evil?"

McCarthy never got the chance to answer her because Joss's Wolf ears picked up the sound of someone just outside the front door. Unholstering her gun, she looked up at the security camera monitor and saw two men, one who looked to be in his late 20's with red hair and one bald man, approximately 45-50 years of age, just outside the door. They were packing what looked like a small, but entirely adequate, amount of C4 on the door lock. Joss quickly tapped her earpiece.

"John, there's someone outside in the hallway. It looks like they're going to blow the door." She felt her heart rate double and her voice sounded breathless.

"Hang on, I'm only a couple of minutes away." John's voice had taken on the low menacing tone he used when he was in professional mode

"Hurry, John. I don't think we have a couple of minutes." Joss kicked over an armchair to use as cover.

Joss had just enough time to shout at McCarthy to hide when the door was blown into the living room. Joss, crouched safely behind the overturned chair, took out the redheaded assassin with two quick shots as he charged through the doorway. His older partner, realizing that they had somehow lost the advantage of surprise crouched in the hallway and fired back at Joss. Joss managed to keep him pinned down until her clip ran out of bullets. It was at that moment that she remembered with a sinking feeling that her spare clip was in the pocket of her jacket, which was lying on the bed in the spare bedroom.

Joss peeked over the chair at the hallway to the bedrooms. She was only a couple of feet away, she might just make it. She had to try, they had to hold out until John could get there.

She threw a quick glance in the direction of the blown door and when she couldn't see the remaining assassin she bolted for the hallway. The assassin, realizing that she was out of bullets, charged through the door and tackled her in the hall just short of the bedroom. She swiftly swung for his nose, but he expertly blocked her. This man was obviously well trained and experienced in hand to hand combat. She managed to slam a knee into his stomach and he temporarily let go of her. She tried to make another break for the bedroom.

The assassin lunged at her and managed to grab her arm, throwing her into the wall. Joss spun and used her momentum to place a swift kick to his ribs. The assailant grunted in pain but managed to grab her ponytail as she turned again to run for the bedroom. He smashed her head against the hallway with such force that she saw briefly saw stars, and left a large hole in the wall.

The assassin took advantage of Joss's momentary dizziness to wrap his large hand around her slender throat and pin her to wall with his gun pressed firmly against her cheek.

"You put up a good fight, so I'll give you a minute to beg for your life," he mocked her in a soft British accent, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He was enjoying the feeling of holding a helpless woman's life in his hands, and Joss got the feeling this was not his first time. She knew that he would enjoy listening to her pleas and then shoot her anyway.

She wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. Her eyes bore into his, willing herself to show no fear. "Fuck you," she hissed at him.

She felt the gun press even deeper into her cheek, angling up so the bullet would pass through her brain. "So be it, dearie," the man said softly, his lip curling into a feral snarl.

Joss flinched when she heard the gunshot, and it took her a split second to realize she was unharmed. Confused, she looked up into the man's eyes and watched as they briefly grew wide with shock and blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. Slowly his grip on her loosened and he toppled over sideways.

Standing several feet behind the would-be murderer was John, his gun up and face set in a grim mask. Their eyes met, and the hard expression on John's face fell away to reveal the soft, gentle face of her mate. In one bound, John was across the room and enfolding Joss in his arms, holding her tightly while he buried his face in her hair.

"I'm alright, baby, I'm alright," Carter chanted to him softly as she rubbed his back trying to reassure him and, truthfully, herself.

It took a minute for the badly shaken Reese to bring his emotions under control and release his hold on his precious mate.

Reese was finally able to turn his attention to McCarthy who had crawled out from behind the couch where he had taken refuge during the shooting and was staring at the bodies of the assassins with a sick look on his face. Reese, keeping one arm firmly around Joss so she was forced to move with him, stepped over to stand next to McCarthy.

"First time you've seen a dead body?" John asked.

McCarthy nodded. "I've officiated at open casket funerals, but it was nothing like this. I never watched anyone die before." McCarthy turned to face Reese. "You seem to be used to this," he said in an accusing tone of voice. John understood the implication, which was that he was used to seeing bodies because of his Wolf's violent nature.

Reese merely smirked at the preacher. "Joss and I were both in the military before we were in law enforcement. We've seen bodies with heads ripped off and their intestines spilling out." McCarthy went white and had to turn away from the dead men.

McCarthy whispered, "Are they Wolf?"

Reese looked to Carter for an answer. She shook her head. "I didn't feel a thing from either one. But we will have to wait for the blood tests to come back to be sure."

McCarthy looked confused. "If they aren't Wolf, why would they want to kill me?"

Reese's smirk grew a bit bigger. "Maybe it's your sterling personality."

McCarthy glared at Reese but kept his mouth shut.

Carter finally freed herself from John's protective grip and began searching through the men's pockets, but found nothing. "They're professional guns. Whoever wants you dead is willing to pay some big bucks. I'll probably know by tomorrow who they are. I'm betting they're in IAFIS."*

They heard sirens off in the distance and Reese looked at Carter. "Can you handle things here? I need to get McCarthy to another safe house."

"Yeah, go," she said, checking her phone. "Fusco texted he's on his way, so I'll have him to back me up and these guys aren't going anywhere."

Reese gave her a quick kiss and dragged McCarthy none too gently out the door.

Fusco walked in a few minutes later, followed by a couple of uniforms. "Get the techs down here," he snapped irritably at one of the patrolmen. He walked over to Joss and stood looking down at the dead men. "Looks like Batman's handiwork. Were there any others?"

Joss shook her head. "Just them and, for the record, I took out the redhead before John got here."

"Good for you, Mrs. Batman," Fusco growled. "A shootout while you're supposed to be on maternity leave? Ya realize you're gonna be filling out paperwork for the next millennia, right?"

Joss sighed. "Tell me something I don't know, partner."

Fusco's phone rang. "Yeah?...Seriously, no kidding?...Alright, we'll be right down." He hung up and saw Joss's questioning look. "Uniform downstairs just found a guy locked in the trunk of car in the alley behind the building. He's claiming he got grabbed by two guys, one red head, one bald," Fusco gave a pointed look at the dead men laying at their feet.

"Kidnapping and attempted murder, all in one day. These boys been busy," Carter looked thoughtful. "Let's go see what he has to say."

Fusco and Carter walked down the stairs and out to the street where the officer was questioning the man he had freed from the trunk of the car. The man was sitting on the back steps of an ambulance sipping a bottle of water while the EMTs checked him out. The officer saw them coming and walked over to them.

"Watcha got?" Fusco asked, jerking his head in the direction of the shaken man.

The uniformed shrugged. "I'm not really sure what to think, Detective. He says his name is Carl Duran and he's a barista at a coffee shop over on West 95th. He served the guys who kidnapped him this morning and they talked for a few minutes before another customer showed up. After his shift was over, as he was leaving the shop, they grabbed him, stuffed him the trunk, and drove here. After the kidnappers got out of the car, he waited a while to be sure they were gone then started pounding and screaming. That's when I found him."

"Fusco, he's Wolf," Joss said as she felt Duran's distress.

The officer nodded, "Yup, he's wearing a 'Legalize Wolf Matings' shirt. He said the perps asked him about it and that he told them he was Wolf."

Fusco pursed his lips and pulled Carter over to the side, away from the uni. "So our assassins grab a Wolf to act as a patsy, drive over here, and attempt to take out McCarthy. I'm guessin' that after you and McCarthy were dead, they were gonna shoot the patsy to look like he died in the gun battle, and Wolves take the heat for McCarthy biting a bullet."

Joss nodded. "That would make sense; they kill two birds with one stone. They whip up anti-Wolf sentiment on the eve of the vote and kill McCarthy."

"Question is, how did they know how to find McCarthy?" Fusco asked.

Joss looked grim, "I'll bet John is asking our preacher man that same question."

* * *

*IAFIS - Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, maintained by the FBI. Various law enforcement agencies voluntarily submit fingerprints to the system. You can also be added to the system during a background check or by requesting a visa.


	8. Chapter 7 - The Fix

**The Fix**

John dragged McCarthy up the steps in the new safe house, his grip like iron on McCarthy's arm.

"You're hurting me," McCarthy grumbled.

John didn't acknowledge he heard the reverend at all. His mind was still on how close he had come to losing his mate over this man. He really didn't care in the least if he was hurting McCarthy.

John angrily punched in the code and the door unlocked. He dragged McCarthy into the brownstone, closing the door behind them. "Wait here," he ordered in a surly voice. McCarthy wisely did as he was told as John performed his security sweep of the house.

John returned a few minutes later. "Clear," he said gruffly. McCarthy walked past him, giving him a wide berth, into the living room. Reese stood for a minute and glowered at the preacher.

McCarthy, finally fed up with Reese's treatment, glared back. "Why are you so pissed off at me? I didn't almost shoot your precious mate." McCarthy said the last two words in a highly sarcastic tone of voice.

Reese folded his arms, his glacial blue eyes never leaving McCarthy. "How they know where to find you?"

McCarthy squirmed. "How would I know? Maybe they followed us. Or followed your precious mate." Again he used the sarcastic tone.

With blinding speed, Reese was across the floor with his hand on McCarthy's throat. "Do not _ever_ use that tone of voice when referring to her; do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," McCarthy gasped. Reese relaxed his hold and stepped back.

"So, the question still stands; how did they find you?" McCarthy shrugged, but John simply stared at him and waited.

After a couple of minutes, McCarthy finally said, "I told you, I don't know. I only texted my assistant Sheldon…."

"Didn't I tell you not to contact anyone?" John snapped, his blue eyes glacial.

McCarthy squirmed again. "Sheldon has been with me for years; he would never wish me ill…."

Joss would have been proud at how well John kept a rein on his temper. "Even if Sheldon doesn't want you dead, he may have told someone else who did."

McCarthy looked shocked, but didn't say anything.

Reese held out his hand and McCarthy grudgingly handed over his phone. Reese removed the battery and the SIM card, pocketing them.

Reese fixed McCarthy with his most intense stare. "You are out of touch until we get this case resolved. Do not attempt to contact anyone else." And he turned on his heel and left.

* * *

Zoe Morgan strutted into the office of Joshua Bateman, venture capitalist, yachtsman and all-round asshole. She'd had dealings with this man before, which she'd won, and she knew what to expect. She did love getting the better of a man like Bateman. Last time they talked, she had wrung a few million out of him for the family of a man that his son hit while driving drunk. It had been a fun and very rewarding fix.

Bateman stood as she entered his office and shook her hand, pretending to be a lot happier to see her than he really was, and she knew it. She smiled a wolfish smile.

"Relax, Joshua. This isn't going to cost you any money," she purred in her smoky voice.

Bateman sat down in his desk chair while Zoe took her seat across the desk from him.

"That's good to hear. But then why are you here, Ms. Morgan?" Bateman leaned back in his chair and tried to look casual.

"I am here today as a representative of the Mallard Educational Foundation."

Bateman raised an eyebrow. "I know them; I'm on the board at Marbury High School and they make a very large annual contribution to the scholarship fund."

Zoe nodded. "Yes, and I'm here because of your position on the board. I regret to inform you that Mallard is withdrawing all support from the school, effective immediately."

Bateman leaned forward; Zoe had his full attention now. "May I ask why?" he asked quietly.

Zoe reached into her brief case and pulled out an envelope, which she handed over to Bateman. "The entire story is in this letter. The short version is that the school has decided to expel an exceptional young man. The boy is a straight A student, on the debate team and the basketball team, and he has never been in any trouble. But because his parents are Wolf, he has been asked to leave the school and his scholarship has been withdrawn.

"The Mallard Foundation does not support institutions that discriminate in any way. Since Marbury High School has made it clear that they do discriminate, Mallard regrets that it must withdraw all support starting now."

Zoe leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, while the venture capitalist mulled over this information.

"Surely this is a mistake; I don't recall the school having any discriminatory policies," Bateman said. Zoe could sense his confusion and she shook her head. "Principal Hartwell was quite specific about his reasons in his meeting with the mother and the teenager. Apparently, the school feels that Wolves are too violent to be trusted."

Bateman raised an eyebrow. "Is the mother perhaps mistaken? Or maybe she's just a trouble maker?"

The corner of Zoe's mouth quirked up and she tilted her head to the side. "Since the mother is a decorated war veteran_ and_ a decorated NYPD Homicide detective, I suggest you don't even go down that path, Joshua. I assure you, she is quite credible. The perfect poster girl for Wolf Rights, if you ask me."

Bateman swallowed, he sensed a public relations disaster looming. Wolf Rights were hot right now, the last thing any of them needed was a public fight that would drag the good name of the school through the mud.

"Thank you for bringing this my attention, Ms. Morgan. I'll look into this..this situation."

Zoe rose to go. "Thank you, Joshua. I have been directed to tell you the Mallard Foundation deeply regrets that it has to take this action and would love nothing more than for this issue to be resolved quickly."

Bateman nodded. "I understand."

Zoe sashayed out the door and down the hall to the elevator. As the elevator doors closed, she smiled to herself. _Two down, eight to go_, she thought, mentally ticking Bateman off the list of board members she was to visit.

Back in his office, Bateman punched a button on his phone, "Lisa, get Principal Hartwell of Marbury School on the phone as quickly as you can, please."


	9. Chapter 8 - Evening at Home

**Evening at Home and a Break-in**

By the end of the day, McCarthy had managed to anger and annoy every member of the team; Finch couldn't remember the last time they had a number that everyone loathed so much. Even Bear seemed to be giving the man a wide berth by the end of the day. Finch was actually grateful Shaw had refused to help, he wasn't sure if the rest of the team would have been able to restrain her from kneecapping, or worse, the number they were supposed to protect.

To give everyone a break, Fusco called in a favor from a fellow detective at his old precinct and the other detective agreed to watch the safe house for the night, thinking he was protecting a witness in a murder case. This allowed the team to gather at the Bunker for dinner and a strategy session. Reese and Finch arrived carrying copious amounts of Taylor's favorite Pad Thai and everyone gathered around the Carter/Reese dining table to discuss where they were with the case so far.

Fusco took a swig of his beer. "We've identified the two guys the Mr. and Mrs. Wonderboy took out at the safe house. Joss was right about them being in IAFIS. The baldy was Peter Delbert, and the redhead was Bradley White, both British citizens. Their prints matched a few dozen crimes scenes across the country and in Interpol's records.

"I talked to a guy at Scotland Yard; let's just say they were very well known to British law enforcement. These guys are former SAS and used to hang with our old friend, Alistair Wesley, but they broke off to do some freelancing. Scotland Yard said these guys weren't cheap though; whoever hired them had some serious coin."

Finch frowned. "Were they Wolf?"

Joss looked up from nursing Cali. "Nope, the blood tests came back negative. They weren't Wolf."

John had been watching his mate nurse their child with a small smile on his face, and now he tore his eyes from his family to look around the table. "So what we have are paid professionals looking to use a Wolf patsy to kill McCarthy. I think we can safely rule out Wolves trying to kill him to get even for all his hate-mongering; so we look for another motive."

"I believe I have one, Mr. Reese - financial gain," Finch said.

"Follow the money," Fusco growled, rolling his eyes. "How cliché."

Finch nodded. "Yes, Detective, I'm afraid the motive may be the basest and most common of all."

"What did you find Finch?" Reese asked.

Finch pulled some papers out of his brief case and handed them over to Reese, while Joss and Lionel peeked over his shoulders. "McCarthy's Ministry is worth nearly 75 million. After the detectives' talk with Reverend Schmidt, I looked into his accusations of financial mismanagement. I was able to verify that every single charge Schmidt made in his lawsuit was true, as well as a few charges he didn't make. Despite the ministry's outward appearance of being a benevolent religious organization, it has been a money machine for McCarthy and his inner circle. Each one of them is worth a few million in their own right. They drive luxury cars, live in mansions, and their children attend expensive private schools."

Fusco frowned. "Then why would one of them want McCarthy dead? That's like killing the goose that laid the golden egg, and we all know how well that turned out."

"Think about it, Fusco," Joss said thoughtfully. "Schmidt said that donations went _**up**_ when he filed the lawsuit. Imagine what will happen if McCarthy were to die by the hand of an 'enemy', like say, a Wolf."

Finch nodded his agreement with Joss's theory. "Exactly Detective. Not to mention McCarthy is not the cash cow he used to be; donations to the ministry have been dropping considerably in the last few years.

"McCarthy built his ministry on hatred of certain groups, but public attitudes are changing and hatred towards Wolves and the other groups is not as prevalent and lucrative as it used to be."

Fusco pursed his lips in thought. "I get it, kill McCarthy, reap the pity donations, then whoever takes over the top spot can change the direction of the ministry to something more popular and keep the cash flowing."

"That is my current theory," Finch said softly.

Cali finished nursing and Joss moved to burp her, but John reached over and took his daughter. "I'll take care of her now, honey. Eat your dinner."

Joss handed Cali over to her daddy and dug into her food. "Ok how do we prove it?"

Reese looked grim as he gently patted his baby's back. "We know the only communication McCarthy made from the safe house before the assassination attempt was to Sheldon. We start there."

* * *

A shadowy figure slid down a rope into the supposedly secure warehouse that King's County, proud birthplace of the Reverend Edward McCarthy, used as a document repository. Sam Shaw flipped on her small flashlight and grinned. "Too easy," she snorted at the ease with which she had gained entry. It was kind of nice to have an easy one for a change.

She swept her light over the long rows of filing cabinets. "Ah crap," she groaned. She'd worked briefly as a file clerk for an insurance company in college. She had only lasted a few hours before her male supervisor had made the serious mistake of trying to fondle her. He got his hand slammed in a drawer and she got fired.

It took her a while to find the cabinet that was marked for the month and year of McCarthy's birth. She quickly picked the lock and pulled open the drawer. She held the small light in her jaws as she flipped quickly through the folders until she found the right one. Carefully she pulled the document out and glanced at it.

A wolfish smile formed on her lips as she read the line for Father. "Well now, that's not the daddy who's on your other birth certificate, is it, Eddie?"

She took the document over to a copy machine in the corner and ran a few copies which she carefully folded and stuck in a pocket on the inside of her black pants. She returned the original document to its spot in the file cabinet and relocked it. She glanced at her watch and smiled in satisfaction; she had plenty of time before the security guard made his rounds.

She swiftly shimmied up the rope she had used to infiltrate the warehouse and out onto the roof. Once she was out of the skylight, she coiled up the rope, climbed down the access ladder, and ducked behind a bush as the rather rotund security guard strolled blithely by. Once the guard turned the corner, Shaw scurried over to the alarm box, opened it, and pulled out the clips for the bypass she had rigged. She closed and re-locked the alarm box, then ducked through a small hole in the fence to the street. Then she strolled off as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"Hey Finch."

"Yes, Ms. Shaw, how did your breaking and entering go?"

Shaw snorted, "I had tougher training runs my first week as a rookie. Piece of cake. I didn't even get to shoot anyone."

"You must be devastated."

"I'll deal. You were right about McCarthy's birth certificate; it has been amended. I found the original and the father's name doesn't match the official one."

"Excellent work Ms. Shaw! I take it you will be searching for the biological father next?"

"Yep, just as soon as I run down a steak. Felonies make me hungry. I'll call you when I have more information."

* * *

John was a much lighter sleeper than his mate, so his Wolf ears heard baby Cali fussing in her crib first. As he emerged from his slumber, he realized that she sounded off; so he hustled quickly to the nursery.

Cali had woken up coughing with a runny nose. She had her first cold. She took one look at her father's familiar face and began crying like there was no tomorrow.

John had been through a war as a special ops soldier. He had been an international spy and assassin. He had been praised by his superiors for his ability to think under fire and remain calm, even when death seemed imminent. Bullets, bombs, and torture, none of it ever rattled him. He had stared death in the eye without blinking too many times to count.

But faced with a sick baby, he freaked out.

"JOSS!" he bellowed as he scooped up his precious bundle of joy and cradled her in his arms. "Shh, sweetheart, daddy's here," he cooed to his fussy child.

Joss charged into the nursery with her gun in her hand, ready for battle. She had never heard her mate yell like that before and she had been seriously scared of anything that could make a man like John Reese sound like he was on the verge of panic. She looked around wildly, expecting intruders or some other such danger, but only saw her mate holding their baby. She looked at her husband in confusion while he looked back at her with a similar look of confusion on his face. He had no idea why she would bring her gun with her. Was she planning on shooting the germs that were making the baby sick?

"What's wrong, John?" Joss asked as she tamped down the tide of panic that had risen in her chest at his frantic call.

"Cali's sick!" John said with an edge of panic in his voice. As if to emphasize her daddy's point, Cali spat her pacifier out of her mouth and coughed loudy. Two identical pair of silver-blue eyes stared at her; the man's eyes were filled with concern and the child's eyes were tired and feverish.

For a minute, Joss stood glaring at her mate, one hand on her hip and her gun hand, with the gun still in it, dangling loosely by her thigh. She let out a long, slow, calming breath. For a fleeting second she seriously considered shooting her beloved for scaring the crap out of her like that. But she knew this was his first child, and she recalled that she and Paul hadn't been much better when Taylor got his first cold.

"John, it's just a minor cold; she'll be fine in few days. Change her diaper and bring her into the bedroom. I'll go the get the humidifier set up. She's sleeping with us tonight."

John obediently did as he was told and in a few minutes he and his precious daughter were in the master bedroom, sitting on the bed and watching Joss set up the humidifier shaped like a cheerful pink elephant. In no time at all it was dispensing a steady stream of steam out of its upraised trunk.

"Is that it?" John asked anxiously, not really sure how that plastic cartoon character was going to help.

Joss nodded her head. "Yep, the steam will help with the congestion and make it easier for her to breathe. She's only a few months old; I don't want to give her any drugs if I don't have to."

John looked unsure, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Joss had managed to raise Taylor mostly by herself after all.

Joss crawled into bed and took Cali from him with a kiss. "She'll be fine, sweetie. We'll keep in here with us so we'll know if she gets worse. Trust me; it's just a minor cold." Joss lay down with her back to her mate and curled around her baby.

John flicked off the bedroom light and lay down, spooning his mate with an arm thrown protectively over her and his cub. "I'm sorry; I'm not used to all this."

Joss yawned as she settled her back comfortably against his chest. "It's OK. Every new parent goes through this; I did with Taylor. Now get some sleep."

John lay there for a while as he listened to his mate and cub's breathing. They were both soon fast asleep and the humidifier did seem to be doing its job as John could notice a change for the better in his daughter's breathing. Reassured, he soon joined them in sleep as he held them both


	10. Chapter 9 - Confrontation

**This is the next to last chapter in this fic. The last chapter will be posted on Monday.**

* * *

**Confrontation**

The next morning, John checked in with a grumpy and bored McCarthy. McCarthy was fine and made it clear he was not in the mood for the company of Wolves, so John decided to pay a visit to Sheldon.

No one at the church was any happier to see him than they were before, least of all Reverend Sheldon. He glared openly at John as he was escorted into the office. "How can I help you, Detective?" he inquired in a tone of voice that made it clear there were a million other things he would rather be doing.

John pretended not to notice Sheldon's attitude. "Things seem mighty busy around here," he commented idly.

Sheldon's pinched face got even more pinched. "Since Reverend McCarthy has been cut off from contact," Sheldon threw a meaningful glance in Reese's direction, but Reese merely smirked at him, "It falls to me to keep the ministry running smoothly."

"I see. So if anything happens to McCarthy, you would take over the ministry?" John asked politely.

Sheldon puffed out his chest just a bit. "Yes, I am…" Then Sheldon's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying, Detective?"

John smirked at the man. "Just curious. Did you know there was another attempt on the good Reverend yesterday?"

John carefully watched Sheldon for signs of true surprise, but all he saw was lousy acting. Sheldon tried, but he was no Tom Hanks. Heck, he wasn't even Lassie. He hesitated a second too long, his eyes opened a little too wide and his mouth fell open a little too far, giving him the look of a startled fish. "No, was it Wolves?" Sheldon asked a little too quickly.

_You know it wasn't_, John thought to himself. "No, it was paid, professional, _non-Wolf_ assassins." He stared intently at the minister.

Sheldon shifted uncomfortably. "Well, when you speak the truth, you have a lot of enemies."

Reese's mouth smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and he stared a hole through Sheldon. "Yes, but there are lots of ways to pick up enemies, aren't there?"

Sheldon's nose twitched like a rat in a trap. Fortunately for him, he seemed to be smarter than he looked. "I'm not sure I know what you mean, Detective."

Reese continued his intense focus on the man in front of him. "Sometimes you find enemies in surprising places," his voice was soft but deadly.

Sheldon's eyes opened wide and then narrowed. "I think I understand, Detective."

John nodded in satisfaction. He had delivered his message and Sheldon received it loud and clear. It was time to see what Sheldon did with that knowledge.

"I'll leave you to your busy workday then," John turned to leave. His plan was to follow Sheldon for the rest of the day, waiting for the not-so-good Reverend to make a mistake and lead him to any co-conspirators. Unfortunately, John did not see Sheldon pick up a large bronze crucifix and raise it high over his head. He bought the heavy object down on the back of John's head and the ex-op crumpled to the floor.

Sheldon looked down at John with a sneer. "Fucking Wolves," he spat. Then he stepped over John's unconscious form to touch the intercom. "Mrs. Huber? Please ask Reverend Scott and Reverend Peltier to come to my office. We have a vermin problem to discuss."

* * *

John came to slowly. He recognized the blurred vision and the headache and immediately knew what had happened. _I hope Shaw never finds out that a dough boy like Sheldon got the drop on me_, he thought to himself_. Never thought he had it in him._

He remained very still; he didn't want his captors to know he was awake just yet. He found himself shackled hand and foot to a heavy chair and he seemed to be in some sort of storage area. He heard voices; it sounded like Sheldon was having an argument with some co-conspirators.

"You idiot, now we are going to have to kill him! We don't need more blood on our hands!"

A voice John recognized as Sheldon's responded, "I told you he _knows_! Unless you want to spend the rest of your life in jail we _have_ to get rid of him."

A third voice joined the argument. "Sheldon's right; in for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. We're already killing Eddie."

Yet another voice joined the conversation, this one with a British accent. "Gentlemen, let's not squabble. You hired me to do a job; let me do it. I'll find out from our, um, guest what he knows, who else knows, and eliminate anyone who is a threat to your lucrative operation."

"We hired Delbert and White to do a job, too. They got themselves shot by a lone female cop!" Sheldon snapped irritably.

"Regrettably, my late colleagues got too heavy handed with their assignment and tipped their hand; I assure you that my methods will be more personal and more effective."

Reese closed his eyes as he felt the touch of his mate on his mind. He felt her concern and he tried to send her some reassurance that he was fine. She seemed mollified, at least a bit. He also realized she was very close and he smiled the goofy smile of a man in love. She must have felt him go unconscious and headed straight for the church as soon as he was knocked out.

Then he frowned as a thought occurred to him. Hopefully she was not coming alone…

"Ah, you're awake. Good, we can get started then."

Reese looked up to see the speaker who was about six feet tall, dressed in jeans, and a button down shirt. He was holding a rather nasty looking scalpel, passing it back and forth in his hands with practiced ease.

Reese gave the man his best cocky grin. "Sorry, but I have other plans. I have a sick baby at home."

The man's cold eyes glittered with malice. "Mate, your plans are cancelled for the rest of your life."

John smirked and looked the man straight in the eye. The man frowned; he was not used to having a person he was about torture smile at him like he was an amusing child. He was used to fear and it puzzled him as to why this person was not begging for his life.

Then Reese morphed. The shackles fell away since they were not designed for Wolves and Reese was free.

"Shit, he's Wolf!" he heard someone say.

"Duh!" Sheldon snarled. "One look at his eyes should have told you that!"

Reese morphed back to his human form minus his clothes that had been shredded during the change to Wolf form. The man with the scalpel simply nodded his head. "Alright then let's get to it," he said as he assumed a fighting stance. "This is going to fun."

"For one of us," Reese agreed, as he assumed his own fighting stance.

The two men began to circle each other as they sized each other up. Reese was pretty sure the man he was facing was former SAS like his recently deceased colleagues. He was also sure his adversary wasn't Wolf.

His Wolf ears heard a movement behind him and, with inhuman speed, he spun around. He grabbed Sheldon who had tried to sneak up behind him holding the bronze crucifix again. He allowed his momentum to spin him back to face the man with the scalpel, holding Sheldon in front of him just as the other man lunged forward. The scalpel, intended for Reese's chest, was buried in Sheldon's back instead. Sheldon's' scream of pain turned into a gurgle. _There's a collapsed lung_, Reese thought dispassionately as he tossed the minister away from him, the scalpel still embedded in his body. Reese knew he didn't have to worry about any more sneak attacks from Sheldon.

Reese continued circling with the former SAS. He could afford to be patient; he knew Joss was close and would be there any second. The other man, however, had limited patience; he faked left then spin kicked for Reese's head. John blocked the kick, but the man took advantage of his upraised arm to punch him in the stomach. Reese barely flinched. His own foot lashed out and caught the man in his abdomen and Reese heard the man grunt in pain. They broke apart and began circling again.

The man lunged forward and he and Reese exchanged a flurry of blows before he jumped back. The man grabbed what looked like a broken chair arm and came at John again. John ducked the blow easily, grabbed the man's arm and used his elbow to break his opponent's nose. The man tried to get his hand on Reese's neck, but only succeeded in scratching his face. Reese broke the man's arm and kneed him in the groin, ending the fight, as the man crumpled to the floor with a whimper.

"Not bad, Alpha."

Reese turned to see his mate standing there by the door with a smile on her face. "How long have you been standing there?' he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Few minutes," she smirked.

"You weren't going to help?" John huffed.

Joss shrugged, her smirk still firmly planted on her face. "Sorry, I got distracted by the naked hand to hand combat."

John pulled his mate to his body and nipped at her ear. "I'll show you naked hand to hand later. But right now, I would like my spare clothes from the car."

"Fusco is with me and he left to go get them as soon as he saw you." Joss kissed his chest and tried not to think too much about what she had just witnessed, or she was going to do something very unprofessional. She had found the naked hand to hand more than just "distracting"; it was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. Watching John's well-developed muscles play under the skin as he fought the other man had nearly put her over the edge. She was going to be seeing that sight in her dreams as long as she lived.

John's voice dragged her back to reality. "Who's watching Cali?"

Joss smiled. "Finch. She's at the library." Then she turned him around so she could check his head wound.

While Joss was examining John's wounds, Fusco walked in with the gym bag of the spare clothes Reese kept in the car for such occasions. Fusco handed the bag to John and looked at Sheldon laying the floor. "I can't believe this creampuff got the drop on you."

John pulled on his pants, his expression a bit defensive, "It was a sucker punch. With a bronze statue."

"Not just any statue," Fusco said, holding the object up for John and Joss to see. "It's a crucifix."

Joss wrinkled her nose in disgust. "That's so tacky."

Fusco hefted the crucifix. "It's pretty damned heavy. I can see why he used it, but I think he's going to burn in hell for all eternity. Jesus ain't gonna be happy at being used as a weapon."

Reese held still while Joss buttoned his shirt for him. "Jesus isn't going to be happy about a lot of things. Sheldon and a couple of the other members of the inner circle hired killers to take McCarthy out."

Fusco sighed, "You two can get out of here, I'll call this in."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Joss asked, looking around the room at the "mess." There was a paid assassin from Great Britain lying on the floor holding his privates, and a soon-to-be-disgraced minister with a scalpel in his back sobbing quietly in pain. Privately, Joss wondered when such sights stopped being surprising and became normal to her. Then she looked over at her mate. _Yup, that's when_, she thought.

Fusco shook his head with a very put-upon expression on his face. "Naw, you're in enough trouble after the shoot-out at the safe house, I'll take this one. Scoot."

John and Joss left quietly by the back door and headed for the safe house. "Do you think we can turn McCarthy loose now?" Joss asked hopefully.

Reese shook his head. "I heard at least two more conspirators, but they ran as soon as I got free. Finch will have to track down Sheldon's phone activity and figure out who they are."

"Damn," Joss snapped. She was regretting the fact she urged the team to take this case.

John smiled fondly at his mate; he had sensed her irritation. "Don't worry; it should only take him a day at most."

"Tell Finch to hurry."

John laughed, "He will. Let's get to the library and check on our sick baby."

At the mention of Cali, Joss's irritation vanished and she smiled.

They arrived back at the Library to find Finch cheerfully walking in circles around his desk with Cali resting on his shoulder.

John reached for his daughter. "I'll take her Finch."

Finch angled his body away from his employee. "I'm fine, John."

"Finch, cough up the kid. You have to trace Sheldon's texts and phone calls and find out who else was in on the plot."

Finch looked unhappy and a bit defiant and Joss thought she might have to referee between the two men. After a minute, Finch just said, "Two more rounds."

John smirked and stepped back, letting Finch a have a couple more minutes with his goddaughter. John understood his friend's need for a few more minutes; both of them risked their lives daily, and these normal, peaceful moments were a luxury to them. John, at least, had his family to come home to between numbers, whereas Finch was still refusing to approach Grace and form his own family. John frowned a bit while he thought about that; they were going to have to do something about that soon….

Finally Finch handed Cali over to John and settled down at his computer with a faint smile.

John took his daughter and held her in his arms while he gazed down at her. She was absolutely perfect as far as he was concerned, despite the fact that his nose detected that she needed a fresh diaper. John snorted as he realized why Finch was finally willing to turn her over to him. He looked over in the direction of the computer genius with a raised eyebrow, and Finch merely smiled an angelic, _Who me?_ smile back. John shook his head as he carried his precious bundle down the hall to the small room that had been set up as a nursery.

Once they were in the nursery, John quickly changed Cali's diaper with the ease of someone who had done this many times before. Cali yawned widely and John realized that it was probably time for a nap. He punched up Dean Martin on the iPod player on a shelf in the corner and slowly began waltzing around the room with the drowsy baby on his shoulder.***

Joss had been recounting the events of the morning to Finch when she heard the all too familiar voice of Dean Martin crooning that everybody loved somebody sometime. "I'll be right back," she said to Finch as she rose from her chair and tip toed down the hallway. She peeked into the room the see her ex-assassin carefully dancing around the room with their daughter on his shoulder as the child slowly drifted off to sleep. She loved watching them when John did this; she knew this was going to be one her favorite memories from Cali's baby years.

Joss giggled when John turned his back to the door and she saw he still had his weapon stuck in his waistband. The contrast between the tender, loving father and the ready for anything operative pretty much summed up her mate. John smiled and winked at her as he waltzed past.

She watched the two of them until Cali was fast asleep and John tucked her into her crib. Then they both quietly made their way back to the computer room to continue working on their case.

* * *

***Mr SW used to do this with Baby Girl SW. It is one of my favorite memories.


	11. Chapter 10 - The Importance of Family

**This is the last chapter of this fic, thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing! I have tried to reply to everyone who has an account because I do appreciate every review. Thanks to the people who reviewed as Guests, I wish I could reply to you as well.**

**Several of you have asked me to keep writing about the Wolves, and I will! I have a couple more fics already in progress. I am far from done with our Wolf pack.**

* * *

**The Importance of Family**

As John predicted, Finch did hurry. In no time at all, he discovered that the Reverends Peltier and Scott were in on the plot to kill McCarthy and take over the lucrative ministry. He supplied Fusco with the evidence he needed for an arrest within 24 hours.

Once Fusco had the fallen ministers in custody, Finch asked everyone to meet at the safe house. As he explained to John over the phone, "I some information I think everyone will find most interesting."

So the entire team was assembled at the safe house shortly after. As they sat down at the huge dining room table, Joss could not help but notice that Shaw was looking mighty smug. Joss shot the ex-op a questioning look, but Shaw uncharacteristically did not spill the beans for once. Instead Shaw just winked at her.

Once everyone was seated, including their number, Finch took a document out of his briefcase and pushed it over to McCarthy. "Do you recognize this?'

McCarthy picked it up and looked at it. "It's my birth certificate."

Finch smiled condescendingly at the pastor. "It's not the original certificate, is it Mr. McCarthy? It's an amended certificate."

McCarthy's attitude immediately changed, he hunched his shoulders and glared at Finch, "So what?" he snapped.

Finch's smile vanished and his face became that hard mask that Officer Simmons had seen when Taylor had been kidnapped. "Oh, come now, Mr. McCarthy; you know exactly why this is relevant."

McCarthy glared at Finch but didn't say anything.

Finch pushed another piece of paper across to him. "Here is your original _un-amended_ birth certificate. Showing a very different father; a father you never talk about or acknowledge. Your biological father was Wolf, wasn't he?"

McCarthy pushed the paper back at Finch forcibly. Joss didn't think McCarthy could surprise her anymore, but she was startled by the blazing hate she saw in his eyes. "He was no father; he was a sperm donor, nothing more. He abandoned my mother and me when I was a baby."

Shaw interrupted, "No, he didn't."

McCarthy glared at her. "What would you know about it? He said he was leaving to find work. My mother waited five long years, but he never even called or wrote."

Shaw put both of her palms flat on the table and leaned into McCarthys face so they were nose to nose, "Unlike you, I actually bothered to find out what happened to him. He left your mom and you to go find work because all the assholes like you in your Podunk town wouldn't hire a Wolf. He didn't abandon you, he was murdered when he intervened in fight in a homeless camp where he was living."

McCarthy snarled, "You're lying."

In response, Finch pushed a picture, obviously an autopsy picture, across the table. Joss and John looked at it and found the family resemblance was unmistakable.

"Ms. Shaw has talked to your mother; she positively identified him from this picture and the description of a tattoo on his arm. There is no doubt that this man was your father. Your father did not abandon you; he was killed before he could return to his family. Because he was 'just another Wolf'," Finch put air quotes around the last three words, "the authorities failed to do their due diligence in searching for his relatives. I find it ironic that you have spent your entire life believing that your father abandoned you because of the same exact hate that you now preach. I submit that the true tragedy of your life is not that you lost your father, it's that you chose to live a life defined by who you hate, not by who you love."

But McCarthy was not a man given to introspection, and he was not equipped to give up the hate that had permeated every aspect of his life for so long. "Stuff your pity, Wolf lover," McCarthy snarled. "I don't need it. I know the truth."

"Damn you!" Every head in the room turned to regard Joss with shock as she hissed at the minister. "Damn you to hell! I watched a boy commit suicide because of your kind of hatred. He was a child and he thought he was evil. No child should feel that way, ever. Damn you!" Joss got up from the table abruptly and walked over to the window to collect herself.

Everyone sat stunned by Joss's outburst for a few minutes. Finch recovered his composure first. "There is a car at the entrance to the building. It will take you back to your church. It should be safe for you to return now. Do not forget that you owe your life to those you would destroy."

McCarthy rose wordlessly and walked to the door. He opened the door and turned back to the Team. He looked like he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it. He left, firmly closing the door behind him.

Fusco growled deep in his throat, "Thank God that's over. Say goodbye to the world's only living heart donor."

Shaw rolled her upper lip, showing some fang. "What should we do about the fact that he's part Wolf?"

Finch smiled. "Nothing, for now. The network people John and Joss saw at the church have decided not to televise his sermons after all and at the rate his ministry is bleeding members and money, I doubt he'll be in business much longer. The tide seems to have turned against him."

Fusco's nose twitched. "Do you think he learned anything?"

Carter, still at the window, turned to the rest of the team and sighed, "Doubt it. He built his entire life around hating us. If he gives that up, what does he have left?" John walked over to her and slipped an arm around her.

Shaw snorted. "Well, you know you're in trouble when St. Jocelyn gives up on you."

Carter wearily leaned her head against John's shoulder. "Sorry to ruin my reputation, but I'm over the Reverend McCarthy; karma can have him now.

"Besides, I have a more immediate problem. We have to find Taylor a new school before the school year starts."

Finch's smile widened. "No you don't."

Carter looked at Finch in surprise. "What? Zoe was able to convince the principal to change his mind?"

Finch shook his head, "No, Principal Hartwell proved to be most recalcitrant. I simply threatened to withdraw my rather generous financial support, and Ms. Morgan let other large donors and the members of the board know why. Ms. Morgan hinted that I also intended to leak the news to the media. Once the board realized they had a possible public relations debacle on their hands, not to mention the loss of considerable funds, Principal Hartwell was swiftly replaced and Taylor's expulsion has been withdrawn. We should get the official notice tomorrow."

Joss looked surprised, "Wait, I thought we weren't going to go public because we might blow John's cover?"

Finch looked smug. "They don't know that. Ms. Morgan plays a rather good game of poker."

"Don't I know it," John grumbled.

Carter stared open-mouthed at Finch while he grinned back at her with a twinkle in his eyes. It took Carter a few tries before she was finally able to speak.

"I don't know what to say, or how to thank you, Harold…" while a tear rolled down her cheek.

Harold waved a hand indicating that no thanks were necessary. "I do not tolerate prejudice, especially when it impacts my friends, Jocelyn. I am very fond of Taylor and I was more than happy to help."

"You're a good man, Harold." Joss kissed him on the cheek.

* * *

A few days later, the New York State Legislature voted to officially recognize Wolf matings as legitimate marriages. It was close, the measure squeaked by with only a single vote to spare. John and Joss, cuddled together on the couch, watched the proceedings on TV with great interest, while Taylor played with Cali and the floor in front of them.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Reese," John said quietly when the vote was done.

"Mrs. Reese? You sure you're not Mr. Carter?" Joss teased as she rubbed his nose with her own.

"_John Carter_ was a lousy movie, Mom." Taylor protested.

Joss laughed, "OK, I get that." Then she gazed at her mate with a smile and dreamy eyes. "Maybe I should be Mrs. Davis?"

John gasped at the mention of his real name. Then he smiled, "You will _**always **_be Carter to me."

Joss nuzzled her mate, "I guess that means we remain the Carter-Reese family then."

"As long as we remain a family, I don't care what we call ourselves," John said touching his forehead to hers.

"Don't worry, I'm not letting you get away," she said softly as she looked up at him from underneath her eyelashes.

"I'm not trying to get away," John purred. He hugged Joss close while he watched Taylor bounce Cali on his knee. _Nope_, he thought. _I will never leave my family_.

* * *

Later that night, John was in bed, lying on his side, propped up on one arm while he watched Joss perform her nightly bedtime routine. She brushed her teeth, moisturized her face and body, and was in the process of tying her scarf over her hair when she noticed John watching her intently. "What?"

To say that John was not a talkative man would be an understatement of epic proportions. Despite his laconic nature, he often found himself wishing he had Finch's eloquence, and now was one of those moments. He wanted to tell her that he loved her to insanity. He wanted to tell her that she was the most incredible woman he had ever met. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful inside and out. He wanted to tell her that she was the best mother, best mate and best Alpha bitch a Wolf could hope for. He wanted to tell her that he had never been happier, and it was all because of her.

But all he could say was, "I'm a lucky man." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Joss knew there was so much unspoken behind those four simple words. She could see the unspoken feelings in his expressive eyes and feel them through their mating bond. She understood what he was trying to tell her, and she was a bit overwhelmed at the love she saw in his face and felt emulating from him. Not for the first time she wondered how a man could go through everything John had and retain his huge heart.

"I'm a lucky woman," she said softly in response.

John lifted the covers and she slid into bed next to him. He pulled her to him and kissed her. It was a tender kiss, so full of love that Joss melted into her mate. She felt loved and cherished and she hoped she made John feel the same.

She did. John often had trouble believing that it was all real, that he wasn't going wake up in a few minutes, alone. But Joss here and she was real. He could feel her body responding to him and he felt her love through their bond. Gently he ran his hand over her torso, his fingertips barely brushing her skin under her tank top. He brushed his lips lightly across her mouth and cheek, up over her eyes and forehead. Her hand rested on the nape of his neck urging him on. Her breath hitched as his lips brushed the sensitive skin under her ear.

John made slow, gentle love to her, if he couldn't tell her what she and the she family gave him meant to him, he was determined to show her. Joss, of course, understood the message and returned it in every way she knew how.

At the end they climaxed together, each with the other's name on their lips. They settled together in the center of the bed, with Joss's head on John's chest and his arm around her. In short order Joss was fast asleep, secure in her mate's arms.

John stared up at the ceiling, listening to her breathe and stroking her hair. "My anchor," he whispered as he dozed off.


End file.
